A MEMOIR. 







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Class F'Z 3 

Bo()k_rr2i2i_^ 



i'UKSi:.\n:i) in 



BIzVERLEN' TUCKER. 

7\ i"lCi"!()!!? IW HI5 WWn, 

M.:.. JAMi: l:LI.IS TUCKI:!^. 



noVvv^cv^ cX J"^" ^ V: 




BEVERLEY TUCKER. 



PREFACE. 

It is a constant regret to me that my dear husband never wrote 
tlie book he had l^een thinking of and planning for some years, and 
which would have been called "Recollections of Beverley Tucker." 
His wonderful memory, keen wit, and facile pen would have made 
it valuable and enjoyable, but failing health and business troubles 
prevented the execution of his purpose. His life was an eventful 
(uie, and lie wished his grandchildren to have his own record of the 
many scenes through which he passed, and his ovm assurance that 
there was not one word of tnifh in the charges brought again~^,t 
liim at the close of the Civil War. 



PRESS 

THE FRANK BAPTIST PRINTING CO., 

RICHMOND, VA. 



A N/IEIVLOIR. 



Ml/ Dear Grandcli lldrcii : 

Your ancestors of the Tucker family came from Bermuda. Your 
i>reat-great-graudfather, bearing the family name of St. George, 
was sent from that colony to the College of William and Mary in 
A'irginia, and although going back to his home at the close of his 
collegiate course, he afterwards returned to Willianishurg to settle 
there and to commence his career as a lawyer. 

When trouble came between the mother country and her colonies. 
he espoused the cause of the latter and held a commission as colonel 
in the Revolutionary army, doing good service being wounded at 
siege of Yorktown. 

When peace came, he continued to live in Willianishurg; was 
Professor of Law at the College of William and Mary and judge. 

He married the widow Randolph, whose maiden name was 
Frances Bland. Her sons were all gifted men, and she was a wo- 
man of tine intellect. John Randolph, Richard Randolph, Henry 
►St. George Tucker, and Bevei'ley Tucker were the sons — all men 
of note in the State. 

Your great-grandfather. Henry St. George Tucker, was there- 
fore a half brother of that talented and eccentric statesman, John 
Randolph, of Roanoke, and I heard my father-in-law say that he 
owed his correct pronunciation and his Ijeautiful reading of the 
English language to his brother Jacl'. who took great pains with 
him when he was a boy and taught him to read Shakespeare. 

There is a beautiful portrait of "My. Randolph, taken in his 
youth, which remains in the old Williamsburg home. 

AMien he had graduated and was ready to commence the practice 
of law, his father gave him a small sum of money, a horse, and a 
body servant, and started liim to seek liis fortune, advising him to 
settle in Winchester, Va. It was a long journey in those days from 
Williamsbiirg to Winchester, and I do not remenil)er how long he 
was in making the journey. 

He commenced in earnest to ])ractice liis profession. His talents 
were soon recognized, and being considered one of the most promi- 
nent young la\\'yers in the coiintry, it was not many years l)efore 
he was settled in life, having married Miss Anne Evelina Hunter, 
a leading belle and heiress in Jefferson county. These, therefore, 
were your grandfatlier's ])areiits. His father united great courtli- 
ness of manner with refined wit and the most loving disposition, 
and liis mother was remarkable for her conversational jiowers. her 
■^tronfi traits of character, and a most nolile and genennis dis])Osi- 
tion. 



8 

Tlicii- lidiiic \\;i> one of unlinimdcd h(i>|iii;il iiv. aiiil in ihat >ec- 
tioii of coiiiiti-y she was callcil ilic "Lady IJoiiiit i ful." Jud,u;e 
'I'lickcr was chaiicclloi- al law and had a law school, when' iiiaiiv 
of ihf leading lawyers of old N'irginia were taught. They had 
thiiTeeii children, all hoiai in Winchester, and your grandfather 
was the middle one of the thirteen, as he often said, lie lived to 
he the oldest one of his genei-ation. for most of the hrothers and 
>isttTs died young 01- in nnddic life. You ])ei-ha|)s ncNcr knew that 
your own grandfather's name was "Xdlh/niicl JW'Xcr'ey Tucker," 
and / never knew it until Brsho|) Moore read it out from the mar- 
riage license when he was marrying us. He was named for his 
nncle. Judge I^)everley Tucker, and both of them, for some reason, 
dropped the .\atliani(d. hut in legal pa])ers tlu' Xathaniel had to he 
put in. 

When he was about twelve years old the home in Winchester 
was broken u]). Chancellor Tucker was appointed Judge and Presi- 
dent of the Court of Appeals, the highest legal position in Vir- 
ginia, and his residence had to be changed to Richmond. He sold 
the ^\'inchester home, bnilt a beautiful country house in Jefferson 
county, called Woodl)ury. as a summer resort for his family, and 
near Hazeltield, the residence of his mother-in-law. This was in a 
neighborhood whei'e there were some of the famed ctnnitry seats of 
the Old Dominion. Judge Tucker brought his large family to 
iJichmond. l)ut Ixd'oi-e that death had invaded the group and claimed 
.-ome of I he biightest of tliein. His oldest son. St. George, when 
nineteen years of age u'i'adiiated at Princeton with high honors, and, 
entering u])(ui W\> profession of law, died after a week's illness; 
and that sanu' year two young daughters were taken. The joyous- 
ness of the household had passed away, but there were too many 
pressing duties, too much young life, besides a real Christian recog- 
nition of submission to (iod"s will, to allow any settled gloom to rest 
upon the household. 

Coming to Richmond w hen a lioy. youi' grandfather entered as a 
scholar at the Richmoiul .Vcademy. which was then considered the 
first school in the State. When of suitable age, he went from tlu'iv 
to the riiiversity of Virginia. lie was xcry young, too full of 
manly strength, of young life, to be rcri/ fond of his books, and 
often I'cgrettetl not making better use of the o|i])oi'lnnities atf(U"ded 
him. Therefore, when his fathei' found that he was rapidly out- 
growing his strength (being (i feet 1 inch at fifteen years of age), 
it was advised that he should lead an oiien-aii- life, and he (>ntered 
the engineering corps of Mr. ('liai'les l-'llett. who was at that time 
constructing the James Hiver and Kanawha Canal, and with head- 
(piarters at Lynchburg. Tie remaiiKMl with him for one ycai-. nudg- 
ing during that time niany life-long fi'iends. 

His ])]-i'ference was for a count I'y life, liowexci'. and so arrange- 
ments wei'c made foi' him t(^ settle on one (d' his father's estates. 



It was about tliis time that T made his acquaintance, and in less 
than two rears we were married, Jannarv ^1, 18-1-1, and, as he said, 
•'he never was free," for he was not of age until nearly five months 
after. Precocious in growth, in manners, and intellect, he had 
mingled in society for several years. 

His friends were many. He loved them witli his whole heart, 
and never during his whole life gave up a friend under any circum- 
stances. The ffrst summer of onr married life was passed with 
his father and mother at their country residence, '"Woodbury." 
I recall now the perfunie of the lilac hedge, which enclosed the large 
garden and was in full bloom when we first drove up, to be wel- 
comed to l^oth heart and home. I would like to give you some idea 
of an old Virginia home in those days. There were many such 
in our State, and yet none surpassed this, for Judge and Mrs. 
Tucker were incomparable as host and hostess. Exquisite courtesy 
of manner was the Judge's known characteristic, and each guest 
was made to feel that he conferred a favor, and Mrs. Tucker's 
noble, generous heart was shown in her cordial greeting and un- 
tiring efforts for the pleasure of her guests. A talent for conver- 
sation was cultivated in those days, and it was an intellectual treat 
to sit at their table and listen to the brilliant flashes of wit and 
humor that passed from hosts to guests. It required great adminis- 
trative talent to superintend so large a household, and Mrs. Tucker's 
table each day groaned under the many dishes, so elaborately filled 
with heavv joints of meat, smaller delicacies, and delicious desserts. 
The simimer of which I speak was a typical one. There were forty 
whites in family, besides the large number of servants, and there 
was a round of neighborly visits and entertainments. 

The following year we"^went to "Hazclfield," which was an old 
homestead in the family, the first home of our married life. It holds 
a tender place in my memory. The old house, with no real beauty 
about it, but substantial and comfortable : the yard, with its Lom- 
bardy poplars and other noble trees; the large garden, vegetables, 
fruits and flowers mingled together; the well with its icy cold 
water. I think 1 can see them all, and the old servants who came to 
greet the voung mistress. Uncle Peter, our factotum, and old 
Aunt Dolly, a hundred years old she said she was, and she lived 
manv vears after, and Pin Fanny (as she was called, because years 
before" she had swallowed a pin and never thought she could do 
any work after that). They looked upon me as a child, and would 
say, "Go long, honey : you don't know nothing." We all lived 
very amicable" together, and they were cared for and no work ever 
required of them." Aunt Dolly, the hundred-year-old lady, read her 
Iiil);e without spectacles and sat erect, never touching the back of 
her chair. My young, loving. Joyous husband brought his 
friends to the liouse, we visited all flu- beloved relatives around, 
and for the two or throe vears we lived in Jefferson county ; Ave lived 



10 

as Snutherii jilaiitcrs then lived, with o|H'n ahuiidancv. eaivless ease, 
and a thaid<riil acccpiaiicc oi' (i(id'> i;-irt>. 

Our first eliild. my jirecious dau<ilitc'r .Maggie, whom her father 
ealled his gem. \\a> tlie baby, and she went wherever we did, 
wra])])ed up warmly for the winter rides, and welcomed everywhere. 
Our Jirst Son, Henry St. George, was born at old Hazelfield, and as 
the first (/nnnlsun in the family he was the pi'ide and joy and pet 
of the whole connection. Ood took him from us at seven years 
of age — onr tirst sorrow, and oh I what a soitow it was ! It seemed 
as if we could not live without him, and 1 think life is never (/uite 
the same after the first death in the family circle. One liidv in 
the chain is broken, only to be reunited in heaven. 

1 don't know how the desire for a change came al)out. (_'i-ops 
had failed, owing to continued droutlis: some secui'itv del)ts, made 
thoughtlessly for neighl)oi-s, who had no other claim, pressed for 
payment; and an offer to go into business in Richmond was made 
your grandfather and accept(^(k lie saw afterwards that it was a 
mistake. ^^'ho]]y unsn<picions. not trained to careful business- 
liabits, confiding implicitly in the honor and integritv of others, 
he entered into nu'rcantile life with a /inn that was afterwards 
loiind to be ali-eady tottering. lie put in his ca])ital and he gave 
<'iit husiastic work and energy to this ni'W husiness. lie was sent by 
the partners to Xew Orleans, and on his return found that failure 
wa< imminent and that the h.ouse would have to close l\\^. The 
other pai'tners had no mean- — i-reditors ca.me foi'wai'd to coiiijifo- 
iiiisc: hut your ;;-ranil fathei- <;\\A he wmihl pay 1<l<> cents in the 
dollar, and tlins after six month>" clfoi-t hi- whole life ami career 
was changed, ami he wa-. Inside-, nndei' pi'nmise to pa\ tliis large 
indebtedness. It hampered him foi- years and years; l)ut youth 
knows no such woi-d as 'M'ail." and he I'esolutely sought for some 
new held foi' his cneigT. Ilis I'ncle i)e\ci'le\' advised that he should 
go to Missoni'i and look at some laigc ti'acts of lami that he owneil 
thei'e. and. takini:' lea\"e id' ns in Iiichmond, h'' started with that 
inteiilion. lie was detained in Wa-^liington. There was the wild- 
est e.xcitement there at the seat of govei-nment. War between the 
T'nited States and Mexico had just Ixhmi declared. .\ll the muni- 
tion- of w;ir v.ei-c to be pi-o\ided. Contracts were being given. 
Hon. .lohn ^'. Mason was the Secretai'y of the \a\\' and a fi'ieiul 
<d' the family. Some one suggested to yoiii' grand fatliei' that he 
should obtain a conti'ai-t for making shot and <hell. lie went to 
see the jSeci'ctary. lie said: "Im-v. yon ha\c no experience in these 
things. Suppose your shot and >hell sli(udil not lit the guns." 
"Oh, dnilgc." he rei)lied. "yon can then gi\i' me a contract to make 
guns to fit the shell." He i-ecci\cd the c(n)1i'act. came back to Iiich- 
mond, associated a man of expei'icnce with him, e-tahlishe(| the 
work at Columbia. Iduvanna county, and started upon a new career. 
.Making the .-hot and -hell pi-o\-ed a success, they stood a test given 



11 

at I'ortsmoiith, and tlu'ii a contract was given for furnishing coal 
to the ships that were to go to A'era Crnz. Frecjuent visits to Wash- 
ington on this 1)nsiness bronglit .your grandfather into constant in- 
tercourse with ^onie of tlie most prominent men of tlie conntr}', 
and there was a chann in tlieir society and an attraction in the 
Wasliington of those days that finally decided him to make the capi- 
tal of the nation his permanent home. ' After some time he entered 
into partnership with ^Ir. John Addison, a yonng lawyer of talent, 
and commenced tlie practice of advocating claims before Congress 
and the departments. 1 recall amongst these the building of the 
first sectional dock at Kittery, Maine; a mail contract, / thinl-, for 
Vanclerl)ilt"s ships; the making Benicia, in California, a port of 
entry, and having Colt's revolvers adopted and bought by the Gov- 
ernment, and many other grants of this kind. The Tuckers are 
born politicians, or rather have an innate love for politics, and so 
your grandfather was very active in tlie campaign that resulted 
in the election of Franklin Pierce. 

Exulting in the success of the j)arty, your grandfather afterwards 
disap]) roved of President Pierce's course, and when the party was 
split into two factions he was induced by the opposition to start a 
paper advocating their views, and thus he became editor of the "Sen- 
tinel," a jourujil which was as ably edited and us highly tbonghr of 
as any ]japer in the whole land. Jt was in the day when editorials 
were read and much labor was bestowed upon them, and many of 
the editorials of that paper were of a })ure and lofty style and were 
highly commended. He loved the work, and it woulcl have suited 
his tastes to continue it, but the expenses of any journal are great 
and few knew how to make it pay in that day. Articles that would 
fill columns were printed without charge, and the fashion of exten- 
sive advertising was not then known. 

Your grandfather's wonderful charm of manner, his bright in- 
tellect, and noble character had, however, made him wonderfully 
popular, and when he offered himself as a candidate for "Printer"' 
for the Senate he had little difficulty in obtaining the position, 
and the old Senators loved and admired and petted him as fathers 
do their promising young sons. Xo man fully succeeds, however, 
who is actively opposing a reigning government, and so when at 
the close of a Congress there was a question about what paper 
should have the contract for the Government printing, the admins- 
tration brought its power to bear upon the cpiestion and your grand- 
father was ousted out of his right, the Democrats holding a caucus, 
and even many who had been outspoken friends were brought b}" the 
party whip to vote against him. Some would not and boldly re- 
fused to go into caucus. This was a heavy blow. Government 
patronage was what was expected and needed for the expenses of 
the paper, and after struggling on under difficulties for a time it 
seemed the part of wisdom to close up and abandon the effort. 



12 

Still, the rt'tros])('ct of the life of an ('(litor was alwavs eharining 
to him. 

Your irnind fat her coiitimKMl to take an active interest in ])()litieal 
matters, although none of the Tuckers wcrv ever unsenipulous 
enoutrh to siiKmit to party ilictation or ailopt an\' measures for 
success that could not hear the fullest investigation. Mr. 
Buchanan, when a candidate foi' the Presidency, recognized your 
gi'andtatlicr"s elTorts in his hehall' and felt that his nomination was 
in a great nieasni'e due to him. Therefore, early in his adminis- 
tration, ho offered him the consulate to Liverpool. He would have 
preferred an office or ])osition that wcuild not have necessitated his 
leaving Washingtoii. hut he never al'tei'wai'ds regretted going to 
England. The F.ivei'pool coiisulate liati hrai one of the most remu- 
nerative positions in the gift of the <io\(M-ninent, hut a few years 
h(d'ore all the fees connected with the othce had been aholished 
aiul a fixed salary was named, uliich nuule the place less desiraljle. 

lie was a young man, thirty-seven years old, with six children, 
and he felt the want of pi'oper hiisiitcss training, but with the in- 
doniitahle will and energy which was his characteristic he entered 
u])on \u< new duties. We sailed from Xew York on September 27, 
1857, in the l^altic, coinniaiuled hy {'a))tain Conisjock. The ship 
rolled a great deal and we wei'e ele\en days in making the trip. 
The Captain became our fast friend, every attention and kindness 
was shown us. and on landing in Liverpool we went to the old 
Waterloo ITotel. whei-e we remained for three months whilst look- 
ing for a house to establish ourselves in a home of our own." \\'in- 
demere House, I'rincess Park — to this home we look back with 
much pleasure. Xathaniel llawl borne, the author, had been your 
grandfather's ]")redecessor in the consulate. He received him most 
coui'teously. but wa< anxious to gel away at once, scarcely willing to 
remain long enough ti» install him in his new duties, which were so 
entirely no\('| : and 1 baxc heard him say how helpless he felt when 
tile lii--t case bi'ought before him was a murder at sea, a poor sailor 
pni to death by one of the under-ofFicers. However, he always 
leaned to mercy's side and had a boi'ror of oppi-es>ion of any kind. 
and some of the cajjlains ami ollicers thought him too much in- 
clined to take the ])ai-1 of the poor sailor. Plowevei' that may l)e, 
he became a fa\()rite with all the captains and otricers of American 
ships that came to Tiiverpool. lie soon mastered the duties of his 
ollice. and a- I he chief clerk was an intelligent man and ihoi'oughly 
conversant uilli the business, he wa-^ able to I'etider him great 
a>si-tance. 

A da\' or two after our ai'i-i\al in Li\('r|ioii| we met an old friend. 
a Ix'autiful liichmond girl. Cora dai'xis, who had mai-rie(l Mr. 
Fehrman, a (lerman gentleman, and was living in Livei'pool. This 
wa> a Liri'at pleasure. A home face in a strange land is like water 
in a desert land to Ibc thirslv ira\ellei-. The~e fi'iends aided ns in 



13 

selecting our home, our beloved English home, "Windemere House," 
in Princess Park. Princess Park was just outside of Liverpool 
(now within the limits) and the residences were built in the park. 
No shops or business houses were allowed, and each householder 
had a key to a smaller private park, well cultivated and filled with 
ilowers, shade trees, and a small lake. This was a great pleasure 
to the children, and your father can tell you how much they loved 
this home, even although it was in a foreign country. The older 
ones were entered at school. My precious darling Annie was the 
beauty and pet of our home, admired and lo^"ed by all. Our first 
acquaintance with dear Mrs. Train was made here. She had letters 
of introduction to us. and at that time was one of the most beauti- 
ful women I ever saw. A noble woman and the staunchest and 
truest friend, clinging to us through good report and evil report, 
with a steadfastness that never swerved. Her's was a rare charac- 
ter. She had much to l)ear through life, and the friendship she 
gave your grandfather then was a solace to her and a lifelong 
pleasure to him and liis family. 

An official position gives the entree to the best society in any 
country, and your dear grnnd father's was soon an especial favorite, 
for none could resist his social qualities. Witty and bright in con- 
versation, there was besides a magnetism al)out him which made him 
sought by all. and his handsome and commanding presence at- 
tracted attention at once. Some of you remember him as an old 
man, and know that vxen then his companionship was sought by 
young as well as old ; l)ut as a young man I think few equalled him. 
He was a man amongst men early in youth. His closest friends 
were men much older in years — some twelve, fifteen, even twenty 
years older than he was. They lored him and they confided in him. 
The first men in tlie land — senators, judges, ministers, congress- 
men. Their names come before my mind now. The misfortune 
of it was that his dearest friends died years before he did and he 
missed them sadly in his old age. John C Calhoun made him 
one of his pet young friends, and all \hc intellectual men of that 
time in Washington were daily comjianions. I will not name 
them — indeed, could not — but he had many anecdotes to relate of 
all the prominent men with whom he was so closely associated. 

George M. Dallas was American ]\[inister to England and John 
Y. ]\rason Minister to France wlicn we went alu'oad. Both were 
intimate friends and connections, ^li-. Dallas' daughter had nuir- 
ried your grandfather's brother. Dr. David H. Tucker. This, 
therefore, gave us the advantage, when visiting London or Paris, 
of being quite at home at the legations and having advice from 
those in positiou. We made visits to both places and were always 
warmly welcomed. On the day that we landed in Liverpool news 
had just l)een received of the massacre at Cawnpore, during the 
Sepoy war. and the whole nation was in mourning. It was a dav 



14 

of I'iistiiiii' and huiiiilial ion. Mnci'v shop was cIikciI and services 
wcr-c held in all the clini'clics. Tlu' whole of I'hiii-land was mourn- 
inu', and when aliont two weeks after your li'i'and fatlior went to Lon- 
don and called at i'oi'lland Place to see his relative, the widow 
*" of Henry St. (Jeo. Tuekei'. treasurer of the Last India Company, 
he heard her say to the loot man. when his card was handed in: 
"Tell my yonno- relative I regret not seeing him to-day, hut the 
East India packet has bronght news of the death of children and 
gi-andchildi'en. and 1 am overwhelmed." Serrii of her family were 
mui'dei'ed. Laiei" on. when he made another \ isit to London, he 
•^ saw this ele^i;-aJit old lady, and tlu' autlKU'css, A. L. (J. E., is one of 
her children. I lei' hnshand and your ^reat-grandfather were first 
cousins, and had always kept u|) a familiar correspondence. 

it is useless to give fui'ther details of oui' life in England, 
although there is a good deal that was interesting. Our first sum- 
inei- we took a cottage in Wales, ahout two miles from Conway 
Castle. \()uy fathers can tell you of that and how they enjoyed it. 
The third yeai- our son Beverley was (pute sick, his throat much 
iill'ected. and the doctors said he could not get well in iMigland. 
Thei'e had keen no ihonght of sending oui' childi'en away fi'om us 
until then, hut it was decided that three of the hoys should go to 
Switzerland, and they were placed at Bellerive, Mr. Sillig's school, 
near Vevey. "i'our Aunt ^laggie had gone to Paris, to a Protestant 
school there, and the Masons cared for her as if she were one of their 
own family. She stayed with them every Saturday and Sunday. 
I thiid\' with regi-et of the family cii'cde heing then hroken up. espe- 
cially as circumstances afterwards made it so mutdi moi'c sei'ious 
and long continued than we had any thought of at that time. 
I may li'uly say we ne\ei' had a fannly home again, for although 
we k:new it ]iol. the premonitimi of wai- was already heing heard, 
and the woes and soi'rows of that fearful time were coming very 
iicai'. We had hoped and believed that the excitement ami bitter 
feelings engendered by the .lohn ]-5i'own I'aid had died out. but it 
had not been foi-gotten in the South, and in the Xorth rancoi-ous 
feelings had been i-onsed. ami mistaken enthusiasts and crafty poli- 
ticians kept up feelings of enmity and encouragcMl the widening of 
the bi-cacb that had already commenced. 

HuchananV administration was di'awing to a (dose. Voui- gi'and- 
fatlier sent in liis I'csignation. lie thought it best that I should vv- 
tui'u to .Vmei'ica with your .\unt .Mag. your Cncle Ellis, and dear 
little .\nnie. whilst he remained to (do>e up the office and to get our 
.-ons who wei-e in Swit/.eidand to I'cturu home with him. I reached 
h'ichmond just din' /red,' before l-'oi'l Sumter fell, and war was 
upon us before we I'cali/.cd it. The bi'oad Atlantic was between me, 
my dear husband, and my thi'ec sons, and it was now dangerous and 
almost impossible for them to return. Letters could not be sent or 
received. 



10 

Yonr grandfathei' was in the beginning opposed to the war. 
Whilst in Liver})OoI he had written to friends and prominent men 
giving liis views about this and advising tliat tlie figlit should be 
made "in the Union." (1 have copies of these letters.) A good, 
many other Southerners also took this view, and as he had been 
absent from the eonntrv he thonght he had a better opportunity 
of knowing tbe many disad\antages under whirl) we would fight. 
I'nprepared for defense, our ports blockaded, and the markets of 
the world closed against us, it seemed a desperate situation — for the 
institution of slavery in the South prevented the European nations 
from espousing our cause. However, he was a true patriot, a loyal 
\"irginian, and bis allegiance Avas due his State, whether she were 
right or wrong. But he thought her right in trying to prevent 
]S;orthern soldiers from passing through her territory to assaila 
sister State, and heart and soul he dedicated himself and all his in- 
fluence to her cause, and when she seceded from the Union his 
chief an.\iety was to reach his native State and to offer himself for 
her defense. 

There was danger in l)ringing the boys with him, and he deter- 
mined to go to CVmada and to run the blockade through the adjoin- 
ing Northern States. He aimed for Kentucky, which was then 
nentral. and he expected soon to get into the Confederate lines. 
His perilous, exciting, and successful trip has been graphically and 
trnly descrilied in the following article, which T place in this book 
as an appendix. 

1 need not describe my feelings when unexpectedly he arrived 
in Iiichmond, but my three sons were still far away. He In-ought 
valuable information and dispatches and offered his services to the 
(^mfederate Government at once, and, giving all of bis enthusiasm 
to tbe cause, Avas ready for action Avhenever and where\'er it seemed 
best. Still, it was a sore trial to liaA^e our sons so far aAvay from 
us. They Avere at a foreign school and it Avas difficult to send 
remittances. This, therefore, decided him, and, by Presi- 
dent Davis' advice, he and one or tAvo friends entered into a com- 
mercial enterprise tn |)urchase needed sup])lics in England and 
])ring them into the (.'onfederacy. Mr. Gifford went first, your 
grandfather remained a wbile longer, and President Davis decided 
that your grandfather could l)e of greater service to the Southern 
c-ause in Kurope than at home, and therefore charged him Avith cer- 
tain duties abroad. He had enrolled himself with the troops in 
Eichmond and had been in service in the surrounding counties. 
Now that he Avas to go abroad, his commission Avas made out as 
"Colonel Tucker," to insure greater protection and safety whilst 
away. I accompanictl biiii to Ncav Orleans, and remained only ten 
davs, as the vessel on wliieli he Avas to leave expected to sail in two 
days, and the friends with whom 1 was to return AA^ere obliged to get 
back to A^iro-inia. He Avas. bowever. detained for several weeks, as 



16 

ihe departure of the vessel was delayed from time to tiiiR'. At 
last, Xovemhcr li), 18()1, he fairly started. Jlow, whilst they 
were slowly making their way out of the harhor, the whistle of the 
steamer tinex])eetedly went off. how they only just escaped being 
captured, and olliri- incidents of tliat voyage, he has often graphi- 
cally told. At last safely across the ocean, after remaining in 
Paris during the winter, he wrote me that he hoped to return and 
to get our dear sons safely home. 

■ My Itcloved son -lames uas ilic lii'st to reach the Confederacy. 
The blockaders refused to l)ring 6o//.s-. but consentiMl to allow this 
yomuj man, so eager to become a soldier, to sail, lie was made 
bearer of dispatches also, and the vessel, the "Kale." started from 
Xassau. expecting to come into the poi't of Wilmington. They did 
ai'ri\'e safely Duhidc of the port, but were then sighted, (ii'ed at. 
and the vessel, striking upon some of the impediments ])laced to 
obstruct them, filled with water and began to sink. There was lit- 
tle time to act. James, rushing to his state-room, secured the box 
of dis])atches, jumi)ed into the water, and swam ashore. Xothing 
else was saved. His trunk, with the outfit his father had given 
him. and other things so much needed, went to the bottom, and 
also a ti'nid< of di'esses, kc, &c., for Mrs. I'l'csident Davis, which he 
had chai'ge of. Wet and forlorn as he was, be was still filled with 
enthusiasm, ami his fiist eager (piestion was. "Is the \\a,i- o\ci'?" 
Alas ! that it was not. 

General I\aine>, of torpedo fame. was statimied at Wilmington. and 
was verv kind and hospiial)le. .lames came on as rapidlv as ])ossil)le 
to Eichmond. and walk''(l in upon us unexi)ectedly at the old home- 
stead, his graiulmother's house, corner Franklin and Second streets. 
lie visited President Davis at once, delivered his dispatches, and 
was com]ilimentei| upon securing them undei' such dilUculties. 

Eau'ci" to enter the armv a! once, it was (K'cick'd that he slnudd 
join the cavali'w and he became ;i mendx'i- of the Albemarle ti'oop. 
which was a ])ai-t of (ieiu-ral l*'it/. Lee's di\ ision. (Jeneral Tom ^lun- 
foi'd commanding that legiment. (*ai)tain Tibbs commanding the 
Albemarle troop. A scliool boy. a t)rivate — but his record during 
three vears of hard fiu-bting is wcdl known — utterly fearless, un- 
flinching, and ln'a\e in cx]iosure. in battle, and in e\ei'y emergency., 
he ne\('i' lo-t the enthusiasm which animated him in the begin- 
ning, llis only fault was reckless dai'ing. lie was struck hv lad- 
lets and sabi-e o\'ei' and over again and twice sewrelv woundc(|. hut. 
thank (Jod. life and limb wi'vr spiired. lie was nuule sergeant and 
(■;irried the flag, and hi- commission as lieutenant was made out 
toward,- the la-t of the war. hut already the clo>ing scenes were 
drawing ncai-and the aianv in i-etiv;it towai'd> App(Mnattox. 

James safel\- started home fi'om l-hirope. your grandfathei' then 
committed r>c\'erlev and IJamlolph to the cai'c of frii'uds who were 
coiidnu' home through the Xorth. They wei-e Baltimoreans, our 



17 

dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Albert, and words cannot express how 
grateful we feel towards them, for their kindness was indeed un- 
bounded. The l)()ys eanie under assumed names, onh' the purser 
of the ship, knowing that they were the sons of Mr. Beverley Tucker. 
They accompanied Mr. Albert to Baltimore and remained at his 
house for three Aveeks. Then he thought they might venture 
through tbe lines, and as both looked very youthful and were only 
fourteen and sixteen years old, that they need fear no molestation. 
HowcAcr, those were times of trial, and some old friends of their 
father's — or, at least, in ante-bellum days we considered them 
friends — gave information as to who they were, and when they 
reached Martinsburg the boys were arrested and carricxl. under 
guard, to "Point of Eocks." Here, also, where friends of your grand- 
father s Ijoyhood lived, they would have been released on account 
of their youth, but one of these said: "If these are Bev. Tucker's 
sons, they can cai-ry information by word of mouth, although no 
dispatches are in their possession." They were, therefore, put in 
a stage, with two soldiers, one on each side, and carried to Win- 
chester to General IVfilroy. The boys spoke French more readily 
than English and conversed with each other in that language. 
They bore themselves l)ravely and never wavered for one moment. 
There was a Frenchman with General Milroy, General Cluseret, 
afterward president of the Commune, and he, hearing them speak 
his language. iK'came interested, and said he did not see of 
what use it would !)e to detain two youths too young to 
enter the army, and so they were discharged, and joyfully 
received l)y their aunt, Mrs. ^lagill, who lived in Winches- 
ter. The next day they were carried near to the Confederate 
lines and allowed to pursue their journey. I still remained at my 
(h'ar mother's, and liad passed througli nioutlis and months of 
anxiety, rarely receiving a letter from my dear husband and rarely 
a])]e to send one to him. T liad no idea that James had left Europe 
until he walkt'd in upon us, and now I had no idea that Beverley 
and Eandol])h were not still there, imtil a Confederate soldier 
coming into Kichmond said that ^Mr. Tucker's boys were in Staun- 
ton, making their way to Eiehmond. How my heart overflowed 
with gratitude, and yet what a trial it was to loiow that I could not 
immediately se(> them and clasp them in my arms ! And now Avhy 
do you think this was? Only think — your grandmother had the 
small-pox and had been ill for three or four weeks. Richmond was 
such a hospital for sick and wounded, and just at this time small- 
pox Avas prevailing a good deal, and as I had been feeling miserable 
and anxious, the doctor said my system was run down, and I was 
in such a condition that I could take any disease that was about. 
And so when it was found that I really had small-pox, or varioloid, 
tlu' yellow flag was hung out and the different members of the 
family were kept in the front part of the house, no one. entering 



18 

my room hut my dear old motlicr and the nurse. Fortunately, by 
tliis time I was nearly well and had been out of bed for two (lavs. 
Beverley and Handoljih ai'ri\cd in the evening, and were terribly 
disappointed th^it they could not see their own mother, after being 
away fi'om hei- mi long, it was deeided that they must be vaeei- 
nated and go into the eountry. a mile from town, to stay at their 
uncle's. Mr. Thomas Ellis. 'I'hey went into the back-yard and I 
saw them from the window of my room. We kissed hands to each 
other, and I think their being safe in their own coifntry helped me 
to recover very rapidly, for in a wei'k they i-ame back and we were 
together. ]\Iy own ])recious boys I How glad I was to have them 
with me again I 

And now 1 began to look anxiously for my dear husband's return. 
The first news I had was through Mr. Xorman Walker's family. 
He was one of the Confederate agents, stationed at Bermuda, and 
letters came saying that Beverley Tucker had arrived there and 
was horrified to hear that his wife had small-pox. However, Mr. 
Walker was ahle to comfort him with the information that I was 
almost well, ^'our grand ralhei' was detained in l'hiro|)e much 
longer than he expected. Mi-. (Jitl'ord had preceded him, had pur- 
chased articles greatly needed by tiie Confederacy, sucli as medi- 
cines, &c., &c., and had sailed from Liver])ool with the cargo even 
before your grandfather i-eached England. Waiting anxiously 
week after week and month aftei- month, iK/lliiin/ was ever heard 
of the vess(d or of any human being who sailed on her. and his 
dear friend and i)ai'tner. ^Ii-. (iilTord. must lunc gone down in some 
violent stoi'm. it was su])i)os('d. .\ large sum of moncv had been 
invested, it wa<. of coui'se. all lost, and it was di-heartening to 
return with this sense of Cailure in one of the pi-iiicipal objects of 
his trip abroad. He was able to render service in other ways, how- 
ever, and glad we wei'e when again, after many dangers, he came 
to his own country. I'cady to olfei- himself for any duly. 

Hut sadder and saddei' were the days that followed. Xone hut 
those who were actually in the midst of these scenes can have a con- 
ception td' them. Richmond was a hos]iital for sick and wounded. 
My dear mother's house shcltci'cd many. and. with so manv relatives 
in the army, there were always two or three to nurse. When the 
telegram came, "Your son dames dangei'ously wounded," how 
thaid-cful I was that his dear father was at home. I'l-t'sident Davis 
gave him pei-mis.-ion to go to hi- >on. it was dillicult to I'cach 
him. I'oi- oui' ai'iny had ]-cti''c(l and most of that portion of tlu- 
country wa.- in the hands (d' the enemy, dames was wounded at 
Aldie. iicni- Lccsburg. but refused to be left in hospital, and was 
carrieil olf the held and I'eached a counti'y house (.Mi'. Cartei'"s), 
where he \\a> kindly taken in and cared for. although bullets were 
llying around and the family in danger. A voung soldier, Mr. 
Kirtlev. was detai!e(l to care for him. and when his father arrix'ed 



19 

lie found him not .so seriously wounded as he expected and only 
anxious to got away. An ambulance aiid one horse, the wovinded 
boy and Mr. Kirtley and your grandfather pushed their way, walk- 
ing and riding through woods and country paths, trying to avoid 
the enemey. I do not remember how long a time the journey home 
was made in, but at last my dear son was housed at his grand- 
mothers, and although the comfortless trip had increased fever and 
inflammation, under his uncle's care he was soon on the way to 
recovery. The bullet remained in the shoulder, and eighteen 
months later had worked down into the arm, where there were so 
many nerves and muscles that there was danger of paralysis, and he 
was taken to a hospital in Charlottesville and had it removed. In 
one month he was back Avith the boys of his company, as eager and 
enthusiastic as ever, and never so happy as when the l)ugle call of 
battle sounded. 

In the battle of the Wilderness he was again wounded, this time 
in the leg, and confined to the house for six weeks or two months. 
He was recklessly brave, but, thank God, passed through the whole 
war without the loss of a liml). whilst so many others lost life or 
were captured. In our own family connection we lost many loved 
ones. First there was Henry Tucker, I)r. David Tucker's oldest 
son, just eighteen years old. He was one of the first victims. Placed 
on guard on the banks of James River, he was not relieved during 
the whole night, and came home ill. dying with pneumonia after 
ten days" illness. Then Ellis Munford, my sister's oldest child, 
just from the University, joined an artillery company and at ]\Ial- 
vern Hill gave up his young life. The firing had been heard 
around Richmond all day. and anxious hearts were listening and 
fervent prayers offered. At midnight a horseman came in saying 
Ellis Munford had been killed, and in less than an hour friends 
l)rought the body to his home. Shot through the eye and brain, 
he fell at his gun, not knowing how or when he was hurt. Our 
friend,. Rev. E. D. Perkins, tenderly took charge of his body and 
came to bring the sorrowful tidings to his parents. Ht' was said 
to l)e the handsomest young man in all Virginia, knew not what 
fear was, and died before there was ever one thought of defeat to 
the Confederacy. Then your grandfather's brother, St. George 
Tucker, was ill with fever at the beginning of the battle of Seven 
Pines, but, hearing the cannonading, he was restlessly anxious to go 
to his command, and when the news came first that his colonel 
and then his major were killed, he left his bed, went out and took 
cojumand, foiTght through the battles, then was sent into Richmond 
on the invalid list, and never was able to go into the field again, 
dying before the year was out. Another brother. Dr. Alfred 
Tucker, in charge of one of the hospitals in Georgia, also died, and 
dear St. George Brooke was badly wounded, and was left, after 
months of snfPering and illness, witli one leo- shorter than the other. 



20 

This is only the boginning of the casiuiltio and deaths that took 
place amongst our relatives. 

However, the young soldiers could hardly rrstraiii their entlutsi- 
asm. TiiKY at least never thought of defeat. My son Beverley had 
Joined the artillery, the Otey Battery, commanded by Major 
Walker. His duty was liai'd. I'oi' ii \\-;i> iu ilic swamps of the 
ChJckahominy and around iiiclimond and Petersburg. He 
fought malai-ia ;in(l starvation as well as the enemy, for there was 
now scarcity of food, and such rations as were given to the soldiers 
he could not eat. 'The corn meal made him sick, and tlu're was lit- 
tle else. When possible, we would send bread and such provisions 
as could be obtained, but op])ortunities to do so were scarce, and 
in every house in Richmond there was insutficiency of food. Your 
grandfather had sent su]iplies irom abi-oad at different times, but 
more were captiii-cil than receixcd. One large box of tea and bar- 
rel of white sugar came in and was cai'crulh- husbanded. Not one 
of the family would think of using it. excepi my moiher. who was 
old and feeble, and it was dillicult to make her do so. It was care- 
fully kept for the use of sick and M'ouiided soldiei's. both in our 
own house and in the hospitals, ami when one of our cousins came 
in, an exchanged prisoner just released from a Yankee prison, and 
fainted as lie reached tlie do(n-, we >cnt to six oi- (dght neighbors 
before we could gx't c\-en a roll of bread for him. No one had a 
piece of bread left from the last meal. Judge Halyburton, who had 
a large family of young children, had. after long consideration, 
decided that one c^^<^ for each memlier of the family gave them 
more nourishment than anything he could provide for them, and 
that without bread to eat with it. The general dish was soup made 
of Idack-eyed ]jeas. Scant food and of the ])lainest was in every 
family. My Ixdovcd son l?andol])h Jiad beeti eagi'r to take up arms 
ever since Bev. was allowed to enlist, aiul so it was arranged that 
he should become a cadet in the \'irginia Militaiw Institute. They 
were no longer at Ijcxington. but wei'c encam|)e(| lu-ar Richmond 
ready for field duty and |)ert'orming military ser\ ice. The Decem- 
ber weather was \crv cold. He came home on fu i-lough for Christ- 
mas Day, but was not well. However, he returned to camp and 
stood guard that night in a cold, driving i-ain and sleet. A day 
afterwards he was returned home sick and had a severe attack of 
in (lamination (d' the lungs, followed by a low fever. As he did not 
rally, the doctor advised my taking him to tlu' country, and, not 
realizing how rapidly evei-ything wa< di-awing to a close, I left 
for uiy sister's in rowliatan county, lea\ing deai' Maggie and mv 
darling .\nnie behind in iiiclimond. I ilo not now >ee how T could 
have left little .\nnie; but iraNclliuL;' was \ci-\- dillicult. and I 
thought she was |ierlia|i- safer where she was. ijow many mistakes 
we make in life! 'i'bis has always seemed to me a fatal mistake. 
Kan was slow in I'cii-ainiuu- streniilh and 1 remained some weeks. 



31 

Then, just wlien ready to I'ctiirii, news eame of the evacuation of 
liiehmond. A thunderbolt fallen from the sky could not have been 
more unexpected, for we hoped on and hoped on and believed in 
General Lee. 

Then tJie army began to move. Straggling soldiers would come 
in with conflicting reports, and as the army neared Amelia Court- 
house we heard firing all day. My two sons I knew were with the 
retreating army. We expected each moment that the Yankees 
might be upon us. A^alua1)les were concealed, and Ran and John 
Cocke, the young soldier boys, were sent across the river. Nothing 
occurred to break suspense and anxiety. For days we watched 
and waited. Tlien first one ragged soldier, then another came, 
asking for food and slielter. Then I received a note from my 
brother Thomas and afterwards from my brother Richard, both 
moving off, saying the last they heard from Jemmie and Bev. they 
were safe. At Inst, one evening, dear Rev. came in. He had escaped 
from A])])omattox and made his way to Lynchburg, was kindly 
fed and sheltered by Dr. Kidder Taylor, and then started on foot, 
ragged, without money or necessaries of any kind. He left us, and 
then dear Jemmie came, l)roken-hearted, dispirited, and just as un- 
provided for. 

The agony of those days cannot Ije told. How I longed to get 
to Richmond ! But communication was cut oft', and so it was some 
time before T could get to my dear ones there. At last the old 
home was reached and all seemed well, although the experiences- 
they had passed through were vividly impressed upon all. The 
very day, or the day before, I arrived in Richmond news had come 
of the assassination of President Lincoln. Little did I think I 
could have any pei'sonal interest in this, except the horror and sur- 
]u-ise I felt at the news. My thoughts were with my dear husband, 
Icnowing his anxiety about his family. l)ut there was no thought 
tliat anv shadow of suspicion could fall on him. ISTor do T see now 
liow it could have Ijeen. He liad one of the sweetest, most loving, 
and tender natures I ever knew, almost womanly in his affections, 
Avith all his great strength and manliness, and it was just impossi- 
ble for him to commit a mean, cruel, or perfidious act. But I will 
speak of this later on. 

T will now refer to my dear husband when he last went off from 
Ixichrnond. again leaving us. AMieu he returned in 1862 we thought 
he had come to stay, and, oh, how we thanked God that we were 
again together — father, mother, and children! But he thought 
that duty again called him. and nil jiersonnl pi-eferences were put 
aside. 

As the war had gone on it Ix'came more and more difhcult to 
su])])]y the (Confederate army with necessary articles. The poor 
soldiers were enduring privations of every kind, Imt especially was 
food needed. Our ports were blockaded. l)ut it seemed an absolute 



22 

necessity to ivy iiml pi-nciii'c |)i'n\ i-idin. I'l'csiilciir Davis, thcnv 
fore, sent t'm- ymii- Liraiid father and asked if lie was williiiii' lo 
imdertaki' this mission. {{{• knew his ac(|naii)taiiet' witli prtmii- 
nent men on the other side was extensive, and an effort was to he 
made to open eonununieation witli tlie (ioverinnent at Washington 
to see whether an arrangement eoiihl not he made to exchange cotton 
for meat, ponnd for pound. If was known that the Xortli wanted 
cotton, and the South sadly needed meat for our starving soldiers. 
After a long conference \vifh President Davis and the Secretary of 
W'ai'. it was deei<led that he shonid I r\- to I'each ("amuhi and open 
negotiations with oHicials in ^\'a-hington. This was in ilie hegin- 
ning of 18()3. 

He was acting with the Home (inard around liichmond. and was 
actually in the field, constant rumors of attack reaching the city 
and keeping every one on the ''qui vixc"* Armed with an old 
sword, his thunih had heen se\-erely liurt in drawing it from its 
scabbard. Imt he hound it up and thought notliing of it. I nil anima- 
tion, howevei-. set in. and tliis ap])arently trifling iujurv occasioned 
a felon, from which he was suffering at this time. 

He told the President, however, he had no hesitation in tendering 
his services in aiiij way he considered advisable or going anywhere, 
and so it was thought best for him to go to Wilmington and to set 
sail in one of the blockade runners fi-om that port. 

He was asked to make no delay. Dr. (Jihson cut the thund) open 
to the bone. Tie wi-apped it up and l(d't us. He left Wilmington 
28th January in Ihe steamer llausa for IJei'iumla, but, getting out 
of coal, the steamer changed her destination to Xassau, from there 
to St. Thomas, thence to Halifax. All tliis made lonir delay, and 
tlieii the trip fi'om Ilalifax to ('ana(L-i had to he nuide hy laiKh 
The sure thumh was not properly att^■nded to on the xovage, and 
the heat of the tropics and tlu'ii the intense cold in Halifax aggra- 
vated the trouble, and he sulfereil intensely — indeed, was ill for 
weeks in Halifax: and at last \h\ .\llnion. his friend and physician 
in Halifax, amputatcil the lii-st joint of the thundt. Before it had 
really healed, tlu' tinu' 'o (ill an appointment in Canada connect<'il 
with his hu>ine>> negotiations drew nigh, and although the Doctor 
^\■arne(| him of danger, he stai'tcd in an open sleigh, driving thi'ough 
snow and slush and exposed to intense cohl. Tlie whoh' arm was 
swollen and there was tei'rihle inllammation and danger of losing 
the arm i!s(df. Ileai'!'i\('d in ('anaila .\pi-il \'.\. ISli:). ami, feeding 
that time had ali-eady heen lost, met e\-erv engagement, and although 
a fearful sufferer, never neglected his husiness in any way. 

Mr. Lincoln was not averse to tlu' pi-oposition made to him. 
They wanted cotton as we wanted meat. Persons authorized to do 
so went to Canada to meet youi' gi'and father. Thei'e was neces- 
sarily some delaw hut the ari'anu'emeiit ivus comluiU d. the meat was 



23 



to be delivered at Mobile, to be paid for in cotton, and everything 
>;eemed satisfactorily settled. Alas! it was too late. Events 
<:'rowded upon event.s and the Confederacy was near its close. Sher- 
man's march, the closing battles around Petersburg and Richmond, 
the evacuation of the latter city, and finally Lee's surrender at 
Ap])oma.ttox. The meat had l)een shi])ped: what became of it was 
never known. 

This, and this only, was the mission upon which your grand- 
father went to Canada. He was, of course, often with Clay, Tliom])- 
son, and tlie other Confederates in that country, but I have heard 
him sav that he told them : ''Now, gentlemen, / am on a peaceful 
mission, which can be best attended to by my taking part in noth- 
ing else. Tt is. therefore, my request that you should not even in- 
form me what vou are engaged in." And so it was. Besides, he 
had never had "any hitter feeling towards the North or Northern 
men, except the natural antagonism towards the invaders of our 
beloved country and homes. He humljered many personal friends 
in the North, and he was engaged in friendly correspondence with 
President Lincoln and Secretary Seward. He took no part in 
the raids on the borders, or in any of the secret transactions of the 
other Confederate agents, except that he willingly helped any of 
our poor soldiers who escaped from Northern prisons to return to 
their own homes. He was always loyal indeed to the South, espe- 
cially to his own State, for he believed we had right on our side, 
and 'that devotion to his beloved Virginia and the consecration 
of everv talent to her service was his first duty. Although not 
actually engaged as a soldier hghting the haiflrs of his country, 
he endured exposure and privation of every kind whilst endeavor- 
ing to fulfill the missions assigned him, and surely his sufferings 
and dangers continued for years after the conclusion of the war. 

You see that during the most troublous times that came upon us 
in the South your grand fathei was awav, but the distress was only 
aggravated in his case, as suspense and anxiety and false reports 
made everything hard to bear. 

As soon as I returned to Richmond. I ajjplied to (h-neral Halleck. 
then in command of the city, for a jiermit to join my husband 
in Canada. This was refused. The ])roclamation was issued 
■charging the Confederates in Canada with plotting President Lin- 
coln's death and rewards offered for their arrest. 

I have heard your grandfather say that the morning paper was 
brought to him as usual, and. sitting up in bed, he read that most 
astounding article and the offer of $25,000 for his head. He 
rubbed his eyes and thought he was dreaming ; then after reality 
came to him there wa> an "intense feeling of indignation and horror 
at his being charged with so dastardly a crime. He had never seen 
young Booth or heard of Surratt. or any of the names, even of the 
l)arties connected with that crime. 



His address in \\\v |)(()|i|r nf the [■iiilcd State's and Ins IcttiT to 
Mr. St'wai-il wa- ilu' luitiiral cxiu't-sioii n\' iiidi«i-iiati()ii felt 1)V an 
innocent man so falsely accu>c(l. imahlc to rest tamelv and (|iii(.'tlv 
under such injustice. To one of sucli .sensitive feelinus and wliose 
standard of honor was so exalted, it was simply intoK'rahle. Tie 
could not enchire it. and could scarcely I'efrain from a-oinu- at once 
to AVasliiiigton and deniandi]i>i- trial. I'ndcr the iearrul state of 
excitement, of nncertainty, and of clamorous, revenii-efu! feelings 
tliat then dominated tli(> Xorlli, it was known that this would he 
suicidal. Mr. I)a\is and .Mi-. Clay wei-e ])ris()ners al l-'ortress 
^lonroe and snhjt'cted to every indiiiuity. l*oj)ular clamor de- 
manded victims, and there was no thouiiht except a feverish desire 
to crush and punish the wliole South. Everywhere there was a 
feelin<j- of hitterness. Poor youiiii' Booth had unintentionally heen 
a deadly enemy to the South, and his action hrou^u-ht untold misery 
It was the act of one deluded man, hut charued to the whole South, 
and especially to those Confederates who were ill Canada at the 
lime. .\nd so just as I was striviua' to oet to uiy hushand all this 
Iiiirst upon us. 

^\ waking eai'ly the morning after my return, our servant came 
in to tell us that the house ■\\'as surrounded hy soldiers, and. look- 
ing out. the whole yarti aiul gai'den was lilled with I'liion >oldiers, 
bayonets bristling and cxcit axcnue blocked. They now demanded 
to search the house foi- any papers or corre.spondence of Mr. 
Tucker's. Xothing could be Found. T'hcy susiieetcMl his being in 
A'irginia. \)v. Tucker's house was searched, and lhe\- cm'U went to 
my brothei'"s. in Buckingham county, one hundi'eil miles from 
Ifichmond. under a false rumor that .Mr. 1'ucker was ihei'e. .V 
guard of soldiers was kept at my mother's house all the time. 
Mingled feelings opju-essed us all. l?ichmond was under martial 
law, and we felt that no word was uttered that was not re])orted 
to the authorities. .\nd now there came to me a s(u-row so heavy 
that I i-an >carce s])eak of it. My precious child. dai-ling little 
Annie, her father's pet and darling, so beautiful, tender, ami loving, 
was taken ill. Of a part iculai'ly sensitive organization, the times 
through which she passed were too much lilled with startling hor- 
I'ors. She had been, unfortunately, left with her sister and grand- 
mother when I went 'o the country, and the lei'i-ors of the e\acu- 
lioii were impressed on her mind. The lire, the blowing up of the 
buildings by powdei-. the fright of stH'ing the ^'ankee soldiers, alai'in 
(d' llieii' -urr(mnding our house, and then bearing of the cbai'ges 
again>t liei' precious father, lilled bei- ndnd with distressing 
thoughts, and when fi'ver set in her (U'liriiini told bow all of these 
things im))resse(l her. For ten days she lay in suirering: llien Cod 
look her to himself. 

I could not think of m\' own sori'ow. fof my husband filled my 
thouuhts. ami I li-iicii' what a blow this would be to him. bow bard 



that such tidings slioukl reach him when away from all he loved! 
We had lost two noble children before in our earlier married life — 
Henry St. Georoe. our oblest son, and a three-year-old daughter, 
P^annie Bland : Imt then we had mingled our tears together, we had 
helped each other, and together we had tried to isay, "Thy will be 
done." Xow a l)]aek pall seemed over everytliing. 1 only felt 
that 1 must try to get to your grandfather. We Uiid tlie precious 
Ijody of our darling one in its resting place, and then I determined 
to try and get olf witliout the pennit. It seemed intolerable to be 
absent from each other in such a time of sorrow and 1 was quite 
willing to brave imprisonment in making the attempt. My pre- 
cious sister, Mrs. Magill, determined to accompany me, and your 
Aunt Maggie also. We took the boat at Eocketts, l)ut very soon 
after starting a soldier came up, showing his order to put us under 
arrest. We went on until we reached Baltimore, then were taken 
to a room and two soldiers kept guard at the door until the boat 
was ready for return. We were taken back to Richmond and 
allowed to return to our homes. There was nothing to be done for 
the time, therefore; l)ut at last my son James determined to go to 
his father, if possible, and starting from Charlottesville he was 
al)le to go through to Canada. He remained in Montreal for some 
time comforting his dear father, then left for Xew York. 

As the popular clamor subsided, and it began to a])pear that 
there had been no widespread conspiracy in the South for the 
assassination of Lincoln, I began to think of making another 
attempt to join my husband. General Patrick had replaced Gene- 
ral Halleck in command of Eichmond, and he was kind and gentle- 
manly, and the people of the city felt indebted to him for holding 
the reins of government in a less arbitrary way. I had permission, 
therefore, now to go away, and so dear Maggie and Ellis accom- 
panied me. I went by sea to New A'ork, and was welcomed most 
cordially by Mr. Hiram Cranston (eo true a friend to all distressed 
Southerners), and from there started the next morning to Canada. 
]\[r. Eogers (the Queen's custom-house officer at Suspension Bridge) 
met me and gave me letters and directions. At St. Catharine's, 
Eev. Mr. Dixon (my husband's brave, lo3^al, true, and noble friend) 
received me with a brother's welcome, accompanied me to Toronto, 
and carried me to his mother's, and then, the next day, saw me fairly 
started to ^Montreal, where my darling husband, your dear grand- 
father, awaited me. He had fully intended meeting me at Xiagara, 
but his friends advised that he should not. Although it must have 
been known l)y the Government before this that all the the suspi- 
cions about the Confederates in Canada were groundless, neither 
the President nor other officials were magnanimous or just enough 
to acknowledge that they were wrong. The proclamation con- 
tinued, and efforts were made by spies and mercenaries to capture 
the gentlemen so proscriljed for the sake of the reward offered. It 



26 

was kiiiiwn in MdiiI I'i'al tluil |)crMiiis wci'c tlicrr. and all along the 
border oi' Canada. Irving- to cnti^ap tlii'SL' oentU'inun, and especially 
a detective had just been tliwai'tcd by your grandfather. 

When 1 met him in Monti'eal and was taken to liis lodgings, 1 
soon I'cali/.ed the position ho \\a> in. An honi' al'toi- I had arrived 
thei'e was a ring at the bell. Two men came in. with ai'ms. iVe.. and 
said they had been sent by the Mayoi" of the <-ily to guard the 
house and prevt-nt trouble, as infonnation had been received that 
an attein|)t would be made to ea])lnre Mr. Tucker. For weeks he 
wa> accompanied by iVicnds. who ai-ine(l themselves for his defence, 
wheiiexcr he left the house, j-'.spcciallv some of the officers of the 
Queen's artillery (with whom he was a great favorite) formed 
themselvt's into an escort for his safety. It was indeed a bitter 
thing for an innocent man to he so Jioiindcd and annoyed. We met 
after a long sej)aration under trying circumstances. Our heart sor- 
row, the loss of our darling, our angel Annie, was still so fresh, so 
hard to bear; but thciv was eo)nfoi-t in the thought that she was 
safel)' housed in bei- heavenly home, and that muie of these earthly 
troubles could harm hei'. It madi' it easier to say, "Thy will be 
done."' 

l)ear l^llis, our youngt'st son. and now the youngest child, had 
gone with me, and the dear little fellow never allowed his father 
to leave the house without accom])anying him, armed with a ])istol, 
so as to defend him from attack. 

We remained in JMontreal during the summer, and then, as there 
seemed no prospect of returning to our own beloved country, your 
grandfather acce|)ted an offer of business which would take him to 
Europe. .\ll of our childi'cn wei'c. howe\-er. to be provided for. 
Feeling the im])ortance of contiiniing the interrupte(l education of 
our sons, we sent fm- them. Your grandfatln'r entered int<i an 
•^ engagement with the Ciiu-innati Fiupiirer to be their foreign corre- 
s])omlent, the remuneratitm to l)e st'ut to our boys in Camula to 
meet college expenses, dames and Ilevei'ley were entt red at the 
Toi'onto Fniversity, IJnndolph and h'llis at ('[tper Canada College, 
both of Ihem splendid in>titutions of learning, and it was to our 
regret that oui- beloved daiighlei- could not go with us. She 
accepted an in\i1ation fi-om oui- ever true friend. Mrs. Train, and 
went to New ^'oi'k. \i~-iting her there during the wiutei-. and then 
going to bei- gi-andniothei'"s, in liiehmond. .\nd now your dear 
grandralbei- had oiicc moi'e to lea\c .\merica. and ii'i' starte(l life \o- 
gether aiiain. lea\ing//// oui' belo\cd childi-en behind us. 'IMie many 
sacrifices made, during the four years of war. made all otbei- trial-^ 
seem only a continuation id' life's discipline : but this sepai'atiou was, 
nevertheless, heartrending. .Ml was so uncertain, too. as to the 
future. The accejjted business was not proiiiisiin/. only taken be- 
cause our lu'ccssities were great, and nothing else oft'ei-ed, and on 
reaching Livei'pool it was soon found how fi'ail was the dependeiu^e. 



27 

for promises were not fulfilled, remittances were stopped, and we 
were, after two or three months, left in England without any means 
of support. The one comfort was, that the newspaper correspond- 
ence continued aud we tliouo-lit the expenses of the hoys in C^anada 
were secured. 

And now it was that our thoughts turned towards Mexico. Colo- 
nel Matthew ]\raury had heen to England and puhlished in the 
English pa})ers glowing accounts of that country, of his friend, the 
Emperor Maximilian, and of the liberal otfers made to all South- 
erners who Avould go there as colonists and support the new em- 
pire. There were generous, whole-souled Englishmen who had been 
enthusiastic supporters of the Southern cause during the war, and 
who now extended sympathy and hospitality to all of the wanderers 
of the lost cause. Especially were we indebted to the Rev. Mr. 
Trapnell. "^ 

Through some of these iniluences the London Standard made an 
offer that Mr. Tucker should act as their Mexican correspondent, if 
he went to that country, and so the idea did not seem so hopeless or 
irrational, especially as the Cincinnati Enquirer continued him in 
the same capacity. Leaving London, therefore, we went to Paris, 
where some other business connected with ]\Iexico was confided to 
his care, and we concluded to sail in the first steamer leaving the 
port of St. Xazaire. There was much longer detention than was 
expected, but at last we set sail, March 20, 1866. Encountering 
an equinoctial gale in the Bay of Biscay, we were roused the first 
night, to find our cabin flooded with Avater, the port hole having 
been forced open. It was a beautiful new steamer, L'Imperatice 
Eugenie, and after this first discomfort the voyage was delightful, 
and as we daily sailed into warmer regions there was much to enjoy 
in sailing over smooth seas and under blue skies. As we neared the 
islands, our first destination to be St. Thomas, there seemed to be 
something wrong, and there were various rumors among the passen- 
gers. At last the steamer stopped, a long boat was lowered, and 
an officer and sailors rowed off. We were forty miles from St. 
Thomas and there was not coal enougli to steam us to tlie 
island; <o we were to lie still, or slowly sail along, until a tug- 
could be brought, and but for the perfect calm we might have been 
in danger of being wrecked. We thought this would scarcely have 
occurred on an English vessel and under English discipline. How- 
ever, all turned out right. A tug returned with' our Iwat, and we 
safely reached St. Thomas, and this, my first sight of the tro])ics, is 
one never to be forgotten. Supplying ourselves with coal, fruit, 
ice, and other provisions, we sailed off for Cuba, and, leaving our 
beautiful steamer at Havana, went on to Vera Cruz in a smaller 
shi]). In Havana we met some of the disappointed Confederates 
rffiiniiinj from Mexico, amongst them General Early, who strongly 
advised that we should "'o no furtlier. However, that was not to be 



28 

lIiDiiU'Iit of. ami M) on we went to try our fortunes in this new 
lield of adventure. Already our son James had reached Mexico. 
He could not content himself with school or college, after plaving 
the part of a man for four years, and had accei)ted an offer from 
Colonel Talcott to join his engineer corjjs in Mexico. Colonel Tal- 
cott was then constructing the great railway from \'era Cruz to the 
City of ]\!exico, and since that hegiDiiing I'ailroads have heen hiiilt 
ill vwvy direction and this heaiitiful country has heen opened up 
to the world as never Ijcl'ore. 

We were hospitahly received and entertained at Vera Cruz hy 
General Stephens and his wife (who were amongst the Southern 
refugees), and the first impressions of Mexico are written in our 
newspaper letter, mailed to the Cincinnati Enquirer. The next day 
we went hy rail to }'aso del ^[achio (it was finished no further 
then), and from theri^ hy stage to Cordova. The Dixie Hotel, to 
which we went, was a harn-like place, without a single comfort, 
but a Confederate refugee kept it, and so it was patronized by all 
Southerners. Judge Perkins, from Mississippi, was living in Cor- 
(lo\a and was wvy kind. (*arlotta, a mile or two distant, was the 
)irir .settlement, of which we read such g-lowin"; accounts in Ensr- 
land, and your grandfather rode there the next morning to see 
what it offered. Dickens' account of Eden is only a fac simile of 
what he found. He met General Price, of Missouri, on his way 
fnjiH llicrr going to \'era Cruz. T think there were three inhabi- 
tants, two half-Hnished houses, a booth, and a tent. Oiili/ the In in] 
was as i-ich as tro])ical soil can he. Thi'ee or four crops could he 
raised a year. Coil'ee. coco.i. I'l'uits of all kinds, were growing in 
abundance, hut fcrcr lurked in all this luxuriousness, and one by 
one the settlers had heen forced to leave. Besides, the empire 
seemed already unstable and rumors were rife that it could not 
last. At the Dixie lintel ! found a Southern lady. Mrs. Jud^c 
Kohei't^on. of .\lahaina. who had hrought money to ])urchase land, 
with the intention of settling a large family of children and grand- 
(diildi'cn in thi< new l']l Dorado. Slie had hi'axed dang<'r and e\- 
|io>ui'e in making t lie 1 rip across tlu> Gulf and then hy land, and was 
ill with fever when I -aw her. SIn' had only a young man and very 
voung girl (two grandcliildreii ) with her, for she was the pioneer 
and intended lo send \'nv the re-t of the family. She talked very 
cheerfully, and did not appear \-ery ill. hut two days after we 
reached the City of Mexico ue heard of her dealh. This is only one 
instance of the iiKinij. many such cn-es we daily heard <d'. 

At Cordo\a we bought pineapples fi-oiii llie Mexicans, who 
ci'owdt'd around the >lagc. and we were laughed at for paying so 
much (a real), when only a few cents should haxc heen the ])rice. 
The best chocolate was made there, and .liidge Perkins took ns to a 
restaurant famous for this s|)ecialty. 

With all illusi(ms ahmit settling at Carlotia (luite dissipated 



29 

from oiir mind, we took the diligence for Pnebla, and there we were 
taken possession of by Mr. and ]\Irs. Snowden Andrews. He was 
connected with the Mexican Railway and had a charming home at 
Pnebla. The greater elevation here, the pure atmosphere, and all 
the surrounding country was beautiful. Here wheat and crops be- 
longing to the temperate region are grown. After two charming 
days spent with our friends, we decided to push on to the City of 
Mexico, and started in the diligence at twelve at night. We knew 
that such travelling was unsafe, and followed the advice of others 
in taking off watches, rings, &c.. and ])]acing thom in our trunks. 
Kobbers in Mexico generally stop the stages and rob the passen- 
gers of all their personal belongings. In this ease it was different, 
for when we halted at dayl)reak the driver coolly announced that 
all the baggage had been cut off. Even that in the front under 
him. containing a box of new clothing for your grandfather, was 
gone. It was a real disaster. iVll our clothing bought in Paris, 
sutticient to last several years, was stolen, and there was the pros- 
]>ect of arriving in the City of Mexico without even a change of 
raiment, and with very little money to re])lace the loss. Your 
grandfather's gold watch, costing $'^50, his chain and seal, which 
bore the family coat of arms — all gone. I think / was disposed 
to grumble a good deal and to talk a great deal about it, but one of 
your dear grandfather's chief characteristics was a cheerful sub- 
mission to personal losses and to whatever was inevitable, and so 
he asked me then and there to bear it bravely, and when he reached 
Mexico he joked about it with his friends and would not complain, 
and although steps were taken to try and recover it, that could not 
be done; and so we tried to forget it and to think of it as one of our 
war sacrifices. The Taleotts and other friends gathered around us 
at once, the ladies sending me changes of clothing, and some pur- 
chases were made to supply our wants. There was some suspicion 
that THIS was not simply a Mexican robbery, but that it was ordered 
by American agents, with the expectation of finding papers and 
documents in your grandfather's trunks. Whether this was so or 
not, we had no way of deciding, but very st rang eh/ a week after- 
wards we were informed that our trunks were at the station, and 
so thcj/ ircrc. l>ut on opening them every article helonging to us had 
been taken and the empty trunks filled with sample boards and 
cards of American calicos, cloths, and other goods. This is all we 
ever heard of our baggage, but two trunks intended for the Empress, 
which were on the same diligence, were safely fur^'-nrdprl to her. 
And surely the whole thing was quite unlike ordinary Mexican 
stage robberies. 

Our son James was oft" on the road, but in a few days we saw 
him. He had engaged a room for us in the same building in which 
Colonel Talcott's and Colonel Maury's families resided, so we were 
at once surrounded 1»\' friends. It all seemed verv ne\\\ l)ut there 



30 

was a gi'cat chariii in it all. \\"c wrw to t;ikc our meals at a 
boarding" Imnsc aci-oss the street. The -ecund daw whilst prepaiMiig 
to go to (liniiei-, it eoiiimeneeii rainiiii;-. and in ten minutes the 
whole street was tlooded. ^^'ater was above the carriage wheels, 
and I saw Mexican Indians l)ringing men and women on their backs 
ont of a church that was on the s(|iiai'e. There was no possibility of 
getting over to dinner. It was the /Irsl niiit at the season, and the 
hardest I ever saw in Mexico, but from this time it rained every 
afternoon, commencing about 2 or ;5 o'clock and subsiding about 
sundown'. 

The Southern colony and the iuiglish residents in the city made 
a very pleasant social circde. and there were a few Mexican families 
who mingled among us, but generally they were exclusive and re- 
mained in their own houses. It was jdainly to be seen that the 
Imperialists wei-<' not mmt numerous and that Maximilian's call to 
the throne had by no means bi'cn unanimous. Still all set'uied 
to go on gaily. The Freneh ollicers lixcd in style and entertained 
a good deal. Bazaine had married a Mexican girl, and she was 
In'ight and pleasant, \\'e had crossed tiie ocean with Colonel Boyer, 
and he was Bazaijie's chief of stall'. Count De Xone also, whose 
wife was Miss Kearny, daughter ol' our .\merican General Kearny, 
was a charming wonuiii. and hei- weekly receptions were crowded 
and the Americans wei'e her favorites, '{'here was an occasional 
ball at the Palace. .Maximilian could be seen driving every day 
with fonr white mules and his ^Icxican driver, with silver tra]ii)ings, 
large sombr^-ro and all national appurtenances. Both the Empe- 
ror and Empress were kind and conciliating and fond of the Mexi- 
can Indians and were dis])osed to rule their new country kindly 
;.nd justly. I'nder it all. however, there was an undefined feeling 
of sadness and unrest, and we realized that ire had arrived in 
^Texico when the eni|)ii'(- was waning I'athei- than in the ascendant. 
Colonel Maury had uone to iMirope, ostensibly to buy astronomical 
instruments, but he nevei' ih turned to Mexico. His son. Colonel 
Richard ^lauiy. i'emaine(l some time longer. His wife was (uie of 
our deaj- I'rieiul-. ami nexci' can I forget the kindness and lio~|ii- 
tality shown us. dui-ing all (d' oui' i-esideiice, by the whole Talcott 
family. Coloiud Talc(>Vt*s home was open to all Southerners. Wdiat 
a noble man he wa<' ()ne id' hi> daughters mai'ried an .\ustrian 
attached to the I'hiiperni-'s liou>(dio|d, and \u< sons were all work- 
ing with him, engage(l in the const I'uct ion of the Imperial I?ailway 
from Vera Ciaiz to the Cil\ of Mexico. >'our gi'and fat Ikm' found 
ihei'e was litlle opening I'oi' any remunerati\e bu-ine<s. and almost 
our oidy dependence was the money i'ecei\('d fi'om the London 
Standard. 

There was distress anu)ngsl the seamstresses in the city at this 
tim(\ and Mr. Eustace Barron. Iieail of the great banking house of 
Forbes, liarron cV Co.. dctei'inined to give a fancv ball, thus llirow- 



31 

iug work into their hands. His city house was to be opened and 
tlie invitations were general. We had no idea of going, but Mr. 
Barron insisted, and so our Talcott friends helped me to some addi- 
tions to my costume and A-our grandfather hired a Spanisli cavalier's 
cloak, and thus we made our appearance, and enjoyed a sight of one 
of the grandest entertainments 1 was ever at. It gave too items 
for a very interesting letter to the papers. 

As the hot weather came on, our friends began to go to country 
places, and your grandfather not being well, the doctor advised 
change of air. Tacubaya, a village ten miles off, and connected by 
a horse car road, was to be our destination. There Colonel Talcott 
had a beautiful country residence, and Colonel Eustace Barron's 
place was celebrated for its grounds, charming location, &c., &c. 
AVe took rooms in a house immediately opposite to his gate, hired a 
Mexican girl, and commenced a kind of picnic housekeeping. There 
was a good deal of pleasure in it, in spite of much anxiety and 
straitened means. The country was beautiful. The clear atmos- 
phere, the noble mountains of Popocatapetl in full view, and we had 
friends from the city who took their early morning horseback rides, 
always stopping to see us, sometimes to be refreshed by a mint 
julep. Excursions were made occasionally to the different places 
of interest in the neighborhood. One to Chepultepec especially to 
be remembered. Still, but for your grandfather's wonderful flow 
of sjDirits, his firmness and patience in bearing up under difficul- 
ties, and his Christian faith and trust, it would have been a sum- 
mer of gloom, for the clouds seemed gathering around our horizon.. 
I commenced a small school, teaching Colonel Talcott's and Mr. 
Benfield's grandchildren; your grandfather found occasional work 
on a j3aper published in the city; but even the Standard money 
came in too irregularly to be depended upon, and our housekeeping 
was of the simplest. 

One beautiful morning we stood at the gate, after our Ijreakfast 
of coffee, bread, and three turkey eggs (your grandfather laughed 
so heartily at my insisting upon dividing the odd turkey e^g;), and 
the fact had to be faced that our last cent was gone. Just then Mr. 
Barron rode out of his gate on his superb black horse, and, after 
going a short distance, turned back and asked to speak to Mr. 
Tucker for a moment. Truly the proverb. "It is darkest just before 
day," M^as now j^roved to be true. He asked your grandfather to 
call at the bank and see his brother-in-law. Baron Hscandon, on a 
matter of business. Any honorable business was what your grand- 
father needed just then. Baron Escandon was one of the wealthiest 
men in Mexico. He owned the largest stock haciendas in the whole 
country. He was one of the Imperialists who invited Maximilian 
to the throne, and now his estates were in danger, as the Republi- 
cans were rising in the State of San Luis Potosi, and a large body 
of troops commanded l\v General Trevino, were marching through 



33 

the eonntrv, and eon fiscal inn; and raising money on all the property 
belonging to the Imperialists. Eseandon had never in his life 
dared to visit these haciendas, although his largest income was de- 
rived from them, for the lawlessness of the coimtry was such that 
he would surely have been seized by robbers and held for ransom. 
He wished now to send ^fr. Tucker to take charge of them, to l)e 
his adiuinistrado — indeed, to make them oNcr to him. s<j that he 
might hold them, and, if possible, prevent their being raided on 
or confiscated. He wished him to be entirely neutral in politics, to 
conciliate the Republican leaders, and to act as if the whole property 
belonged to him. He told him there were great risks to ])e run. 
but the offer was a grand one. Unlimited credit on the hank at 
San Luis Potosi was given him and he was to use his own discre- 
tion and act as seemed best for Escandon's interest. He could take 
a staff' of three or four young men along with him, and, if things 
settled down, invite emigration from the Southern States. There 
could be no hesitation. We were in a strange country, on the eve 
of revolution, and we were literally without any means of support. 
It was a high coin])liinent to hi' selected for such a trust, when 
.>() nuuiy other Americans were in Mexico and had been there much 
longer than he had. Trials come with all blessings, and our trial 
was that we would have to se])arate. Travelling was very imsafe 
in that dii-ectiou — impossible for a lady — and as it was necessary 
for liim to leave as early as ])ossible. arrangements wei'e hui-ried 
and oni' little Mexican home broken up. 

I'ooi' Carlotta had already gone on her ill-fateil joni'ney ti» be- 
seech the I^mpei'(M\ Napoleon's aid. and we knew that lii'st one and 
then anotliei' of oni' Amcfiean families wei'c lea\ing the country iind 
that the enipii'c was doomed, ("ojoiicl nnd \\v<. IJichai'd Mani'v 
wi'i-e lo Ie;i\e foe N ica I'a ngua . and I decided to accom|i;iny them 
as far as \'era Crn/. Onr young fi'iend. too. a son of the artist 
Cha])nien. of Rome. wa> going to Xew ^'ol■k. so we all left together, 
X()veml)ei- ."). isCiC). had an exciting li'ip. but at last landed in Ha- 
vana No\cmber nth. where we found (ieiiei'al Magruder and other 
Confederates, who had preceded ns. 

'!';d<ing leave of Colonel and Mv^. .Maui'v. with young Chapman 
as mv escort, I took passage on an English boat, the Corsica, which 
was to go to Xew "S'oi'k via Nas>au. ^'oung Cha])man declared he 
would nol sail under the Stars and Stripes, and. as I fell much 
the same way. we placed ourselves under the cai-e of the Kngiisb 
caiitain. Had I not been a very good sailor 1 would have regri'tted 
this, for the little vessel rolU'd and ])itched all the way. We landed 
at .Nassau for coal and mails, and found that a late hui-ricane had 
caused de\a>lation, ibi'owing down buildings, etc., the streets still 
encumbci'ed with debris. .\!1. howevt'r, looked peac(d'u! enough 
then. On ari'i\ing at Xew "^'ork, November Sdth. 1 took leave of 
mv escort, \-ouni:- Chapman sailinu' for Rome, whilst 1 found n 



33 

hospitable welcome from our ever dear friend, Mrs. Train. Remain- 
ing with her some days, I then went to Richmond to my dear 
mother's, where my precions daughter was, reaching there early in 
December. 

Your dear grandfather and his son James left for San Luis two 
days before I started on my journey. They took the diligence on 
Xovember 3, 1866, and I was fortunate in hearing of them by tele- 
graph first at Vera Cruz and afterwards at Havana. He was 
accompanied by General McCausland (one of the Confederate gene- 
rals) ; Mr. Murphy, an Irish cousin of the Barrons, I think, and 
Mr. Earle, a young Englishman. They were to act with your 
grandfather, as it were, on his staff, and young Murphy spoke 
Spanish well. They reached San Luis Potosi about the 20th of 
Xovember, and were hospitably received and entertained at tlie 
home of Messrs. Davies & Co., English merchants, long resident in 
Mexico, and acting for the Escandons as bankers and agents. 

Your grandfather was detained longer than he expected in San 
Luis. The administrador had been requested to meet him in that 
€ity and arrangements were to ])e made for the supreme control to 
be handed over to your grandfather. This was a delicate matter, 
for it is not easy to dispossess a man of authority which he has 
long held, but your grandfather's kindly nature and his courtesy 
and frankness of manner made all things at last smooth, or seem- 
ingly so, although after experience made it plain that Senor Pastor 
was not greatly to he trusted. The two estates of Guaname and Las 
Cruces, sixty miles from th.' city of San Iaus Potosi, were consid- 
ered the most valuable live stock estates in Mexico. The Guaname 
bull was always chosen for the 'M)ull fights" of Mexico. The 
estates adjoined and contained al^out L500,000 acres. Two large 
chief mansions were on each e^tate, and they were capacious enough 
for the residence of several families. Besides these, there were 
many other houses on both estates, good churches and priests living 
there to attend to the s])iritual needs of the peons, and good supplies 
of groceries, wines, &c., so that guests could always be entertained. 
Servants for house work ami gardening, always on hand, and all 
domestic arran.uements on a jn-incely scale. Your grandfather 
recei])ted for the stock on hand as follows: 

FOR C^AUNAME. 

Horses 7,377 

Mules LOGO 

Donkevs 1,002 

Horned cattle 2,000 

Sheep S2,828 

Merino cashmere -^28 

Goats 2,^1^ 



34 



CRUCES. 



Horse> 4,114 

:\Iules 646 

1 )onkeys 1,1 98 

Horned catlk' 6U8 

Sheep 85,108 

Stock oi' inaise (or coru) fanega ',^3,875 

A fenega of maise weighs 14(» pounds. 

These figures will convey some idea of the value of tliese estates. 
The irool alone brought a large income. It can readily be under- 
stood that the owners of tliese immense properties felt anxious, in 
the unsettled condition of the country, to try and secure them from 
i-onfiscation or from the ra[)acity of the different armed revolution- 
ists. They were men of great wealth, but were amongst those who 
had coniyiromised themselves with the Republican Government by 
ill I'll till/ Maximilian to come to their country as Emperor and 
assume control of its dcstinie>. They had lent all their aid, moral 
and material, to sustaining the Imperial dyiiasty, and now that 
the Liberal or Eepublican forces were in possession of the State of 
San Luis Potosi, they considered themselves and their property 
unsafe. It seemed certain that the Juarez Government would 
regain power, and the Escandons wished to secure all they could of 
their properties and to go to Europe. They, therefore, wished your 
grandfather to assume the control of the estates as if they belonged 
to him, to conciliate the leaders of the Eepublican factions, so as to. 
protect the property, as far as possible, from illegal exactions, un- 
just demands and outrages, and to form a scheme of colonization 
or settlement, with the intention of bringing Southern men and 
families to settle on these estates, offering them liberal induce- 
ments to do so. 

An agreement was, therefore, drawn up, thus placing Mr. Bever- 
ley Tucker in charge of these haciendas, and as a compensation for 
his services he was to receive an annual salary of $3,000, his board 
and habitation, and other personal expenses. Besides, if the coloni- 
zation ju'ojeet went into effect, he should be assigned an interest in 
the business, to be mutually agreed u])(m. There was no exaggera- 
tion in the I'cporfs your grandfathei' had hcai'd of the estates. It 
was a |ii-inci|iality. and everything was ai'i-ange(l and controlled as 
if it was a little kingdiMn on a lavish scale There wei-e hundreds 
of lu'ons ( I do not remend)er how many) cngagcMl in the cultivation 
()[' the land aiul the care of the stock. \'oni' gi'andfatlu'r visited 
them as soon as pos.s-il^le, and aftcrwai'ds uuide tri))s backwards and 
forwards to the city. He became acquainted with (lovernor Busta- 
incnle. and ihrouLih him with the Liberal generals and leaders of 



3-> 

that party. Bnstamente was the Governor appointed by Juares 
the new President of tlie Republic, to organize the Liberal Govern- 
ment. This was done in a quiet and orderly manner, and your 
grandfather thought it his duty to call upon the Governor and Com- 
manding General Trevenio, frankly communicating to them his 
business in the State of San Luis Potosi. 

He gave a grand entertainment to General Trevinio and his 
officers, was aUo entertained by them, and conciliated all parties 
as far as possible and kept off the forced loans that threatened the 
estates. 

The whole countn^ was in a ferment of excitement and lawless- 
ness and travelling was very dangerous. His experience of the rob- 
bers was renewed. In two separate trips to San Luis he was robbed. 
Another gold watch, that he had bought for James, was taken 
from him, with such money and other personal effects as he had. 
More and more uncertain was the condition of affairs, and corre- 
spondence with the City of Mexico was ditficult. He sent General 
McClausland to see the Escandons, and afterwards Mr. Earle went. 
He had gone to San Luis the beginning of November, and early in 
January the Escandons wished him to return to the City of Mexico 
to confer with them before they left for Europe. It was becoming 
almost impossible to travel safely now, but he did not hesitate. 
Indeed, it was necessary to take further steps about the property, 
and so, bidding good-by to their friends, the Davis' and others, 
father and son commenced their perilous journey. They left the 
haciendas December 15, 18(>(i, for San Luis. On the 27th the 
French and Imperial troops evacuated that city. Your grand- 
father returned to the haciendas, and on the l*2th January, 
186T, James and his father received letters from IMexico, and, 
going on to San Luis, they on the 28th of January started 
for Mexico. The whole country was full of armed men. 
Arms of defence were useless, for wherever found they were 
confiscated for the use of the troops. As they journeyed on 
they were stopped over and over again. They had safe passes given 
by the Liberal leaders, but that pest of Mexico, wayside robbers, 
still infested the highways. The diligence was stopped and at- 
tempted robbery made .^even times during this perilous journey, and 
as the passengers were unarmed they were utterly powerless. The 
most dramatic and dangerous of these experiences was as they 
neared the City of Mexico. There are castes and degrees amongst 
these highw^aymen. Heretofore, although everything of value was 
taken from them, and they felt the humiliation of these constant 
encounters, no special indignity had been offered them. ISTow a 
lower type of these outlaws stopped the stage and ordered all the 
passengers to throw up their hands and lie flat upon their faces 
on the ground. The ^lexican passengers immediately did so. Your 
grandfather and James refused, and, as James showed some resist- 



36 

ance. he was instantly struck on the tciii|)lr or near the eye with 
one of those sharp Mexican knives called Machete. Mercifully, 
the eye escaped, l)iit your grandfather saw the blood spurt out 
and stepped forwai-d to Ids assistance. In a moment six of these 
long, pointed, shai'p k]}ivcs were held around his breast and body 
and he was literally impaled. James instantly called out: "Father, 
do not move, or we will both bo killed. I am not seriously hurt." 
The blood still streamed down tlic side of his face, but he did not 
even lift a hand to wi|)e it away. Father and son stood iip boldly, 
calmly and unflinchiniiiy, and were not further molested, except 
that most of their clothing, even the boots they had on, were taken, 
because they had been robbed before of all their valuables. It is 
such times as these that try men's souls. Tliese two have in many 
and various emergencies always shown wonderful presence of 
juind — moral as well as physical courage — and my earnest wish is 
that all of his grandchildren may iidiei-it this quality for wdiich 
their grandfather was especially noted. The City of Mexico was at 
last reached : hut how different it was from the bright, gay city 
of the em]iirc, n /i/inrciill!/ ^'^^ joyous, a few months before. The 
French troops had ali-eady started on the march to Vera C'ruz ; 
everything was disoi-ganized, and the Mexican I iiipoialists were 
arranging affairs to make a speedy retreat. Don Antonio. Escan- 
don. therefore, conferred with your grandfather, and told him it 
was useless and impossible for him to return to San Luis. A new 
contract or agreement was drawn up, continuing your grandfather's 
salary until the following November, the close of the year, on 
condition that he would try to effect the sale of the properties 
in Canada or the Fnited States. It was, therefore, advised that 
he should leave the country at once, and as soon as these business 
arrangements were settled the two helpless and almost Iwpeless 
wanderers started again, finding means of transpoi-iation as far as 
Puebla. There they came up with Marshal Bazaine and his troops, 
and it was due to the kindness of Bazaine, Colonel Boyer, and 
('a]>tain De X(me that they were able to reach Vera Cruz, for every- 
thing was impressed for the use of the French army. There was 
no way for individuals to get on, over the im])eded roads and dan- 
gerous highways, and again it seemed as if everything was against 
their further progress. Your grandfather found out the quarters 
of CoUmel Boyer (our old fellow-passenger in the steamer LTm- 
])ei-;itrice Eugenie), and sent hi^ card, recjuesting an interview. As 
soon as Colonel Bover heard of his situation he made it known to 
Marshal Bazaine, who at once placed an ambulance and tent at your 
gr;iiul father's servii-e. and be \ras invited to join the French army, 
entertained hy the ollicer-^. and made one of their party until they 
arrived at Yvvn Cruz. What a kind Providence it was that thus 
secured their safe egress from this distracted and most unfortunate 
country! dames took a vessel that was sailintr to N'ew Orleans. 



37 

Your grandfather considered that he was still an exile, and. there- 
fore, went first to Havana, hoping to get on, withont much delay, 
first to Bermnda. then to Halifax, and from there once more to 
Canada — a long and ex]3ensive trip. 

He left Yera Cruz ]\Iarcli 5, 1867. He wrote from Halifax, 
April 20th, that he was detained b}' snow storms, but hoped to 
reach Toronto May 1st, and it was arranged that I should meet 
him in Toronto. I went first to Gloucester to see my sister, Mrs. 
Munford, who was seriously ill, and to await news of his arrival 
in Canada. From tliere going by steamer to Baltimore, I took the 
Pennsylvania road, but in consequence of heavy rains and over- 
flows mucli of the fracl^ was under water, bridges had been washed 
away, and the whole trip was trying and fatiguing. Even after 
getting into Canada I was carried beyond the station at which T 
should have changed cars, and did not arrive at Toronto until 
late in the evening instead of early morning. 

There I was welcomed by my dear husband and his ever true 
friend, Mr. Dixon, and we went at once to the Queen's Hotel, re- 
maining there until something could be decided as to our future 
plans. Of course, there was a strong desire to select some home. 
where our children could come and be with us at least for the sum- 
mer months, and, with the expectation of receiving $250 every 
month from the P]scandons, a cottage M^as rented at the little town 
of Drummond^ille, one mile from Niagara Falls. Xear the border 
line, it would be convenient for persons who might be in treaty for 
the haciendas to come there to see your grandfather, and it was a 
pleasant and healthful situation for the summer. The blessing of 
gathering our sons and our precious daughter once more under a 
home roof was granted us, and our saintly sister, Mrs. Magill (the 
oldest of your grandfather's family), came, too, to be with her 
beloved brother. 

It ought to liave been a \ery peaceful summer, and it would have 
been except that the promised remittances from Mexico came 
slowly and most uncertainly, and finally entirely ceased. I do not 
think more than three payments were ever made after your grand- 
father left ^Mexico, and then a letter came from Mr. Henderson, 
cashier of Barron So Forbes' Bank, saying that the Escandons were 
in great pecuniary embarrassment, that they were in Europe, every- 
thing was disorganized, and advising your grandfather to communi- 
cate with them in Paris, as no more money could be sent him from 
Mexico. Of course, the difficulty of providing even for our modest 
establishment was great, and the disappointment to us was that 
we could not make the summer as bright as we wished for our dear 
children. Still, how thankful we were that they had been with us. 
and there were xr\\<' friends made in the little village, and we all 
look back thankfully to that summer, although it was bur- 
dened with much care to vour o-randfather. Bev., Pan. and Ellis 



38 

left us in Oetohcr lo enter eatli upon dilT'erent occupations. Dear 
]\Iag reniained, and James also, w Ik. had written to liis old friends, 
Messrs. Davies cV Cn.. of San Luis I'oto>i. He tliou<>-ht he woidd 
again try his fortunes in Mexico, and ap])lied for a position in their 
large mercantile house. He was, however, taken with an illness, 
which gave him much suffering and us a oood deal of anxiety. 
We, therefore, remained in the cottage until coni])elle(l to give it 
np in Xovember, and tlien moved witli him to tlie village hotel. 
President Jell'erson Davis, our beloved eliicd'. whom we loved and 
honored, had made us a visit in Octoher, and as we were near the 
town of Niagara, there was intercourse also with what we called the 
Confederate colony there — ]\rr. James M. Mason and family. Gene- 
ral Breckenridge and family, and General Early and others. And 
so there was a good deal that was ])leasant mixed with this anxious 
summer of 18(i7. James" application to the Davies house had 
been favorably received, and so as soon as he was well enough he 
left us again, eai'ly in December. I don't know how we ever con- 
sented to this se]iaratioi-i, but when one has passed through such 
ex])ei'ienees as oui' war brought to us, everything is accepted as a 
necessary evil and sacrifice, and one's actions are regulated accord- 
ing to circumstances. He left us in December, expecting to sail 
from Xew York to Yera Cruz, but his route was changed and he 
went first to Xew Orleans, and from there to ^Matamoras. and on 
to San Luis, arriving ^lai'ch "-3, ISliS, and \ery cordially riHa'ivi'd 
by his old friends. .Vud now il was time to bid adieu to Di'um- 
mondville. Oui- fi-ieiid. Mr. Dixon, insisted that we should go 
first to his home at I'oit i>alhousie, and we pa.-sed the winter with 
these dear friend-. Oui' >leigh drives on the Welland canal from 
the Port to St. Cathariiu's are especially remembered. Beverley 
came from Winchester- to spend his diristmas with us. first stop- 
ping three days in Xe\\- ^'ork to bid fai'ewell to James. BeA . 
walked in unexpectedly u|i(in us at Port Dalbousit'. but must have 
taken cold on the jouri'cy. for in a \'v\v days be was /// witli rben 
matic fever, and v\-as scarcelv \V(dl when be returned to Winchester 
to resume bis duties as I^i'ofes-or of j-'i'encb and ('hemisti'v in the 
t^chools there. 

As FebruaiT was drawing to a (dose, youi- grandfather and niv- 
self went to Toronto, dear ]\lagiiie accepting an in\itation to visit 
the family of ]\Irs. rjeneral ^lurrav. in DrTimmondville. There was 
some business to lie attended to Ixd'oi'c the Parliament — some con- 
cession about the bridge at Xiagai'a Falls — which Mr. Bush bad 
committed to your gi'audfatlu'r. .\iid so now we were settled for a 
time at the (^)ueen's Hotel, Toronto, Cajtlain Dick, the i)ro|)rii'tor. 
])roving a true and o-ood friend all the time we lived in Canada. 
PTere we found Dr. Blackburn, ^Ir. and Mrs. Zane, and still some 
of our Confederate friends. Colonel and ^frs. Helm were at 
;MTother hotel. The irorsi and mo-l tei'i'ible snow storm 1 ever 



:-^9 

sa\\- todk place duriiiii' tliis month of Fehriiai'v. ^laggie had joined 
us. Init was ftayini;- with ^Ir.s. Westmacott. a sister of Mr. Dixon. 
Your grandfather was not well — confined to his bed. I received a 
message that Major Helm was very ill, and went to see him and 
be with his wife. He was verv ill. indeed, with erysipelas in the face. 
]\[rs. Hehn had no really near friend with her, and so I drove 
through the storm and took ^Maggie back with me to help nurse 
him, as Mrs. Helm seemed unable to do anything. Towards the 
middle of the night he died, and it seemed ])itiful that there was 
no one to take charge of anything except the night clerk and hotel 
servants. ^ly dear husband had made me promise that I would 
send for him should death come, and. not realizing how fearfully 
the storm was raging, 1 did send a carriage, even in the dead hour 
of the night. He came and took charge and lovingly attended to 
all that was necessary. When the time for the funeral came, two 
days aftenvards, he still insisted upon being present, but in carry- 
ing the coffin into the clunx-li there was an unbroken path of snow 
to go through, and he became thoroughlv Avet and chilled. He 
never stopped to consider himself when any service could be per- 
formed for a friend : his own interest was lost sight of and the 
claims of friendshi]) were always first with him. This last ex- 
posure was a very trying and serious one. The next day he was ill. 
Acute bronchitis set in — and bronchitis in such a climate as that 
of Canada is a difierent disease from what we regard it in a milder 
region. He became very, vfii/ ill, and I have never forgiven myself 
for not trying to prevent wliat semis to me iioir to have been a 
reckless exposure of his life, and especially for having sent for him 
during that stormy night. The first physicians in Toronto at- 
tended him. His splendid constitution and breadth of lungs helped 
him, but he knew that he would be ill for a long time. He wrote 
to his friend, Dr. Mack, of St. Catharines, who had a sanitarium, 
with mineral and Turkish baths, and whose skill was well known, 
and under his advice we went to Springbank, at St. Catharine's. 
Dr. Mack was a brilliant man in his profession, of undoulited skill, 
and St. Catharine's owed almost all its prosperity to him. He 
received us as friends, and under his care ]\Ir. Tucker remained for 
months. The cough was terrible. ^More and more anxious we be- 
came, and it seemed impossible for any frame to stand the wear 
and tear of that racking cough. However, it began to abate, and 
the hope eame to us that spring weather would bring relief. ^Mag- 
gie came from Toronto and we took board at Mrs. Leper's, leaving 
the comfortable quarters at Springbank, as being more expensive 
than we could afford, although we still had the care of the doctor 
April, May, and June had passed. In July your Fncle Randolph 
Tucker came to see his brother, and remained four days. It was 
an unspeakable pleasure to your grandfather, and was the first time 
the brothers had met since the vear 18(U. when the war with all its 



40 

realitic'.< was iipnn us. Your Aunt Mau-.u-ic was in h.ul licnllh. 
Slic. too. had ticvcr hccii well since .Mnjni- Ilehirs death, and lier 
t'l'iend. Mi's. Ti-jiin, liail urued lief tn \isit Iut at Xewport and try 
the salt air and bathing there. She, therefore, left with her Uncle 
Ean., and again, when we found her so much benefited, we felt 
that dear ^Iv^. Ti'ain was the one ti'ue friend ever able and ever 
willing to help in e\erv emergency. 

In August your grandfather took a tri]) with friends to Lake 
Superior, the Doctor thinking the change would he beneficial, but, 
unfortunately, the forests were on fire — one of the most extensive 
forest fires ever known — and the irritation ot the bi'onchial tubes 
was greatly increased by breathing in the smoke. 

During this long illness anxiety of mind greatly retarded recov- 
ery. We were al)solutely withoTit any income, except that occa- 
sional newspaper articles and letters were written. "The Welland" 
was Tlie only hotel open in St. Catharine's. The summer hotel, 
the Step!ien.-(in Mouse, was closed. It bad i)eeu l)adlv managed 
and had fallen into disre])ute. ]\lr. and Mrs. Norton were the 
proprietors of the "Welland."' Tliey invited your grandfather to 
see them, and jn-oposed that we should move to their house, and 
they would u-illnifjlri give us our board if your grandfather would 
wi'ite weeldy hitters to the papers and use his influence in repre- 
senting the advantages of St. f'atharineV and the comforts of the 
''Welland"' to Southerners and other strangers who nught eonie to 
Canada. This was verv kind, and was cheerfully undertaken. 
\\'e moved our (pi.artei's at once, and remained with .Mrs. Norton all 
through the following winter and until the spring of 1809, when we 
took cliarge of the Stephenson House. Your grandfatlun-'s pres- 
ence and inlluence bi'ougbt nuiny to the \Velland. and althougli it 
almost seemed unraitblul to desert them for the Stephenson House, 
this was not so. a)id the Xoi'tons did not consider it so, but re- 
mained our fii'm friends, and it was often in our ])ower to do 
them a service and to send tbeui patronage. The Stephenson House 
belonged to Governor Howland, of Toronto. Tl was the >iuininer 
hotel where invalids came to test the virtue of the far-famed St. 
Catharine's waters and baths. It was to be leased, and tlie Xor- 
tons knew it would be to their interest to have a fi'lend in charge 
there. Governor Howland and parties in St. Catharine's a])- 
|)roached your grandfathei'. urging him to take the lease. He re- 
))lie(l he had no lapital and could not do so. Besides, the verv 
thought of such a thing was very distasteful. He had dispensed 
hospitality all his life — lavishly, almost i-oyally — and to be obliged 
to iH'ceive moni(Ml i-eiuuneration for entci'taining persons under 
his own roof seemed utterly impossible and most galling — opposed 
to his whole nature. Still, there seemed no opening for tangible 
business of anv kind, and here was at least a >ort of refuge and a 



4] 

home that offered a possil)ility of our absent children coming to us 
during the summer months of A'acation. 

St. Catharine's was a small town, that had risen into temporary 
importance during the war. Tt was accessible, and the merchants 
had greatly increased their trade and were unwilling to see it drift 
away. The mineral baths formed a reason for visitors and refugees 
still coming there, and it was thought that a Southerner of such 
prominence as your grandfather might well be instrumental in all 
this. Governor Plowland would not lease the hotel unless the fur- 
niture was sold and first payments made, and that was quite out 
of our power. So tiventij gentlemen of the town — merchants, 
bankers, &c. — proposed to subscribe $300 each, placing this sum of 
.$().000 at your grandfather's disposal, which was secured to them 
by a life insurance, ^vhich he paid up to the time of his leaving 
Canada, and which they kept tip themselves afterwards. 

There was a good deal spent in repairing both house and furni- 
ture, and the phtmbing bills were especially large, and continued 
all the time we were tliere. 

Well, all this ojiened a new and most unexpected era in our livcf 
In a certain way it was a success. The merchants certainly reaped 
the benefit, for strangers came, and as goods were cheaper than in 
the States, their sales were large. Southerners, especially even from 
the far South, coming, remaining the whole season, and making- 
extensive 23urchases. 

I suppose your grandfather was right in thinking that he was, by 
his nature, unfitted to play the role of a hotel keeper. He gave 
his guests a charming time. He entertained them as if they were 
his private and personal visitors. His wonderful social qualities 
made him most entertaining and greatly beloved ; but some came 
who were old friends, and he found it impossible to receive pay- 
ment from them ; and others woiild deceive and go off without nuik- 
ing payment, and the expenses were heavy and the season com- 
paratively short. Still, we* were not discouraged, for I suppose St. 
Catharine's and its waters had never been brought so favorably into 
notice or so widely known. It seemed an era of prosperity for the 
town, and Dr. Slack's reputation as a physician and surgeon \^as 
spread far and wide. The second and third season continued to be 
the same, and the prospect brightened. 

James had returned from Mexico when the house first opened. 
May 24, 1S69, to be with his father and help him in the new 
undertaking, and our other sons came each summer for one or two 
months. Thus we were privileged to have our dear children witn 
us, and certainly that was an inestimable boon. Beverley was still 
teaching in "Winchester and studying law at the same time. Ean- 
dolph was living in Ottawa, having obtained a clerkship in the 
Department of Marine and Fisheries, and Ellis was engineering in 



42 

the Valley of \'i i^uiiiia : so wlicii the seasons cIoxmI our home i)ailv 
only coinprised om- dear daufi-liler, -huiies and ourselves. We closed 
up llie <)-ivater ])ai'l of that great hiti" house and tried to make our- 
selves eomfortahle in a few rooms, and dear ilag Mnnfoi'd hraved 
the rigors of a C*anada winter and remained with us one year. Oui- 
dear friend. Mr<. Train, also, who was ])laeed in a ti'ving position 
l)y ^Tr. Train's ineivasing eeecntrieities, spent that winter under 
Dr. track's medical care, and was very near us, at S])ringbank, 
coming there really to be Avitli ns. and we ti-ied to comfort her, 
for her luishand was at that time delivei'ing those Siiinhii/ night 
ungodly lectures in New York city, and she could not remain there. 

We s])ent many social evenings amongst friends in St. Catha- 
rine's, hut one evening, returning from a dinner given to us hy 
Tjawyer ^liller. your grandfather accidentally slipped on the icy 
pavement and spraine(l his ankle. Jemmie and one of the gentle- 
men (d' the party saw a sleigh standing in a yard op]iosite and 
youi- grand Tathei- was placed on it. the gentlemen di'ew it them- 
selves, and we wended our way home. The doctor considered it a 
ficrious s])rain, and for so large a man it could not be ex])ected that 
he would soon i-eeover. However, Di'. Mack treated it very skil- 
fully and vigoi'ously, (ii'st at home and then insisting upon his 
going to S])ringbank to try the 'j'ui'kish baths. After five or six 
weeks he was (jnite well, and nevei' afterwards felt even weakness 
in that ankle. Tlie (»ld hronehial cold had ne\-er left him — some- 
times better, sometimes worse, and was very troublesome during 
this winter — indeed, he suffered with it to the day of his death. 

'I'he third summer my dear old mother came on to see us. IMy 
sistei". ^Irs. Cocke, was in irrrlclnul health, and she wished her to 
ti'\- the heiielif of the watei'. T never saw an\' one impiNU'e so rap- 
idh' and sal isfaetorilw and to th(^ (hiv of liei' death h'annie Cocke 
thought the St. ( \itharine"s watei' the most hene(ici;il minei'al water 
she had ever tried. 

The fourth year commi'iieed. hut liinineial ti'oubles eanu' with 
it. I->\-erv elfoi't was made, but before the season was over it was 
de-'ided that it would be w isei' not to eontiime what seemed to be a 
losing busiiu'ss; and so, nl'ter holding a meeting with the gentle- 
men interested and advising with (iovernor Ilowland, this unex- 
pected and uncongenial career was closed up. and auain life w;is 
before us with all its possibilities and seeming i))ipossibilit ies. 

I left, with deal- Magi^'ii'. befoi'e Ibis llnal decision had been 
readied, and found myself once more in dear ohl IJichmond. There 
was no dilhculty about yoTir grandfatbei'V I'cturning to his old 
bomt'. for the amni'st\ pi-oi-bimat ion had lieeii issued lhi-ee years 
b(d'ore. in .lulv, ISCS. Xothiie-' had excr been pi'oved, and it was 
well known now that none of the Soutlieniei-s in Canada had ever 
had an\- connection with oi' an\- knowled'.;-e of what had been termini 



43 

the assassination plot. Indeed, at that time your grandfather had 
never lieard tlie name of Surratt, and although he had formerly 
Ivnown tlie elder Booth and his son Edwin Booth, he did not even 
know that there was another son, and the name of Wilkes Booth was 
entirely strange to him. However, that seemed to be all over now. 
Different friends wrote to him, and especially Hon. Hamilton 
Fish, the Secretary of State, who had been our neighbor and friend 
in ante-l)ellnm times, wrote to your grandfather to come back to 
W ashington, or to go freely wherever he wished without fear of 
annoyance or molestation. Closing up his career in Canada, as no 
avenue of business opened then for him, he went to Xew York, with 
James, Ran. and Ellis. He hoped to find occupation for all, but 
there vrere trying delays. Beverly had returned to Winchester. 
Ellis received an offer from our good friend, Mr. Edward Coxe, of 
Huntsville, Alabama, to take a position in a new insurance com- 
pany, which was just started, and so he drifted away from us, and 
when before a year had i^assed the insurance company failed, he 
was advised by Mr. Coxe to go on to Memphis and try his fortune 
there. Mr. Coxe has e\er remained his friend, and his wife treated 
Ellis like a mntlier. Arriving in ]\remphis, with only a few dollars, 
he went thi'ongb a series of trials and privations, taking up first 
one occupation then another, until at last he entered the commercial 
house of Messrs. Thomas H. Allen & Sons, one of the largest cotton 
houses in the South. There he remained for years a trusted 
employee,. and did not leave them until there was an offer made him 
to become a partner in another house. He married the beautiful 
Miss Mabelle Morrison, has continued his home in Memphis, and 
hns a reputation that is unsurpassed as a man of the highest in- 
tegrity and honor, and is considered one of the best cotton mer- 
chants in that city. Randolph had given up his place in Ottawa, 
and was exceedingly anxious to study law, under his uncle, J. Ran- 
dolph Tucker, then Professor of Law at Washington and Lee Uni- 
versity. Arrangements were made for this, and he left for that 
purpose, and so James and his father renrained in Xew York. 

An English company owning silver mines in Utah had its offices 
in Xew York, and friends of ours interested themselves to secure 
an advantageous offer for James. They tlwuglit they had done 
so. He was asked to go out and take the place of superintendent, 
as the present incumbent was- not trustworthy. A fair salary was 
offered, and so once more this beloved son left home and friends 
and became a wanderer. It was midwinter. He made the trip to 
Salt Lake, arriving there with a very small amount of money. The 
understanding in Xew Yoi'k was that the old superintendent would 
meet bim there, i^-ivinu- e\'ervthing over to his charge, and that a 
conveyance would l)e at liis disposal to take him to the mines. The 
The .superintendent was in Salt Lake, but absolutely refused to be 



44 

(li>])liiee(l ; said lie was far away Irnm the company, and had every- 
thing' under his ciiiiU'ol. aiid that in (•i)ii~c<|uenee of heavy snows, 
A'c. t ra\(dliiiu' was iiii|iract icahle. and iH) unc cDuld i-eacii the mines 
then or. ])erhaps, for weeks or months. Thus situate(l. without a 
single acquaintanee, without money, far fi'oin liome or friends. an<l 
in a hittei-ty-eohl cliiuate, wjiat was lie to (h)? California was 
ihouiiiit of. It had always heen a soil of VA Dorado to dear Ji'inniie, 
and after stayin<i- at the hotel for some days, when his money was 
nearly exhausted. \w paid his hill and went out. Starvation 
.-eemeil hcfore him. lie was indeed helpless, homeless and hiinu'rv. 
Suddi nly he thoui^-ht of something that seemed to ott'er a ehanee. 
lie went to the express ofRce of Wells. Fargo & Co., and told his 
>tory: was treated coolly, almost i'oiii:hly at first: but the courage- 
ous, manly, gentlemanly and indcpendenl manner which charac- 
leri/Ct'd him made them listen, lie said he had a trunk of valuable 
clothing. (Src. at the hotel, and asked that they would receive tJiat 
in plcilgc. gi\iug him >unicient to buy a ticket to San Francisco, 
and holding his trunk until he could redeem it. At last thev con- 
sented to this. He laid in some food for the journey, bought a 
srro)i(l-cl(iss ticket, and hoped to reach his destination in three or 
four days; but wintei' storms, snow blockades. lV'c.. made it a jour- 
ney of over a week. He had sliai-ed all his provisions with the 
women ;ind children (Ui the train, and so landed ])ennile-s in San 
Francisco. lie can tell you of \]\< \arie(l fortune.-. So old 
fi-iends of his father and his own wrrr willing to help, but his proud 
spirit refused pecuniary aid and he only askeil work. Me. 
too. passed through the expei'iences that l'>llis afterwards did. 
at la-t became a purser on <mr of the Facilic steamships, 
wliicli place be retained for some years, but finally Mr. William 
Ibirling. liauker and mine-owner, oll'ered him the superintendence 
of the -ulphiir mine in Lake county. Mi'. IJurling's death, not very 
loiii.'- after. depriviMl him of the friend who would ha\e adxanced 
liim and looked after his interest, but he coiilinue(l li\ing there 
M'M'ii or eight years, married there, and did not lea\'e until a series 
of dis.-istei's iudicaled that the mine would, after awhile, be closed. 

For two yeai's he had mily tempiu-ary woi-k in San Francisco, and 
he had a struggling time. During ( 'le\ eland's administration your 
grandfather secured for him the ollice of assistant a])])raiser in the 
custom-house at San Francisco, which position he still holds. 

His wife died in March, 1SS7. and he brought bis two little bo\s 
1o \'irginia. committing them to our care. Their pre,~i'iice and 
the intert'st and lo\-e that children bring to a home brightened the 
last two years of your grandfather's life as nothing else could have 
ibiiie. They cbeere(l him and made an atmosphere of voutli and 
lo\(' around him. He loved them dearly, and iiitereste(l himself in 
watching the dcNclopment of theii' minds and inslilliiiii- in them 



45 

ideas of tnitli and honor. J^ut now tliat the sons had all gone oft' 
to seek tlieii' fortunes and eai'\e their own way, and his wife and 
danghter. sheltered with friends in Uichniond, it was to be decided 
what career was still open to yonr grandfather. He went back 
to Washington, changed indeed to him, and no longer the place of 
his atl'ections. He had left it when he went as Consul to Liverpool 
in 18,57, a comparatively yonng man, only thirty-six years old; he 
returned with broken health, with heart and spirits tried and worn, 
fifty years old, and life to commence over again, necessary main- 
tenance to be made for himself and those he loved. I think of it 
with wonder now, and ponder over it all, and as I think of it. 1 
realize more than ever that your grandfather was indeed a remark- 
able man, gifted with marvellous energy, and, after every defeat, 
rousing himself to new efforts, with the same cheerfulness and 
determined courage and firmness which had helped him through so 
many reverses. God had. indeed, gifted him with a sunny nature. 
If there was a glimpse of sunshine anywhere, he turned towards 
it, and whatever causes he had for heaviness of heart, or anxiety 
for the future, he nevei' allowed these troubles to cloud his social 
intercourse. He was eminently a social man, whose conversational 
powers made his presence ever welcome, and there was a personal 
magnetism aliout him that won the hearts of all with whom he 
came in contact. He rouhJ iioi harl)or malice or unkind thoughts — 
sim])ly could not — because it made him unhappy and Avas against 
liis whole nature. He went to a modest boarding-house o)i his 
arrival, and he really detested l)oarding-house life, Imt still his 
courtesy and true kindness won the hearts of those with whom he 
was tlnn^wn in daily contact. He was cordially, even aflfectionately, 
received by the puhlic men wdiom he had known in former years. 
Especially did the Hon. Hamilton Fish extend to him the hand of 
friendshi]). and it has always seemed to me that there was a feeling 
amongst ukuiii of these men that they would endeavor to repair, 
in some measure, at least personally, the great injustice and wrong 
that they knew had been done your grandfather during years of 
persecution. As politicians, they would not openly condemn the 
action of their government ; as men. they were ashamed of it, and 
would willinglv have forgotten it. I remained in I^ichmond during 
this year of 1874. 

Your grandfather tried to secure Inisiness, willing to do whatever 
offered. Something was done, and nothing daunted, he went 
bravely on ; l)ut the struggle was a hard one, made more so by 
frequent attacks of gout and bronchitis, liorne as bravely as ever. 
T.ife in Wasliington had none of the charm of the olden days to him. 
Evervtliino- was changed, and the free, hospitaI)le, genial interconrse 
of ot-liev davs was no nn^re. 

The cao-cr nnd)ition and i-estlessness of the present age, pushed 



46 

aside, ilu' older men who still held to tlieir belief in and love of an 
entirely diiVereiit phase of existence. W'ealtii and ])olitieal power 
were in the ascendant. .V new era had commenced: hut with dig- 
nity and Christian I'aitli your grandfather steered his course. So 
many known in former years had been on the opposite side during 
the war, aiid niany wlio had been poor then were rich now. Those 
who soiKjhl liiiii out. lie met cordially; others were received frankly 
and politely, but the intimacy of other days was to be no more. 
\^'hat conld have lielped him to live on, withont bitterness of feel- 
ing, indeed with a sweet charitv and nnselfishness towards all men, 
except that years before, indeed early in the war, he had given his 
heart to (iod. had leai'ned to go to his Savioni-. with all his trou- 
bles, and J'ested with the simple faith of a child in the gracious 
promises so lovim;ly gi\(Mi in (iod"s word, to all who seek hel}) ihere. 
.\ Clii-istian mother's early training and fervent ]:)rayers brought 
foiili Iruil. and a Heavenly Father's chastening hand, led His 
child through desert scenes and troubled ways into paths of peace. 
In the mean time our sons had been battling their way through 
life. Beverley had abandoned his law studies and felt called by the 
Syjirit of (iod to cojiseerate his life to his service. He left Win- 
chester and commenced hi> theologieal course at the Seminary at 
Alexandria. He entered upon the second years studies, feeling 
no need of the ])reparatory year, and was considered the first man 
in his class. Returning the following autumn, he had only been a 
month at the Seminary when he was stricken down with typhoid- 
feNci-. 1 was telegraphed for; at the end of a month I sent for my 
daughter to come and hel]) nurse him. He was very ill indeed. 
His friend and classmate, Mr. Jackson, the present Bishop of Ala- 
bama, gave up his room for my accommodation, and the class of six 
or eight formed themselves into a corps of nui-ses and gave most 
loving and adecpnite hel]). It was an anxious time. Ho was too ill 
to be moved. His life hung l)y a thread. There were few comforts, 
for we were in the bare rooms of college, without a female servant, 
and only the old janitors to attend to the fires. It was bitterly cold ; 
none of the attentions that money coubl ])i-ocui'e for the convenient 
suri'oundings of illness, but crcrij tliiiii/ that loving and willing 
hearts ciudd give us was freely bestowed. Tin- jn-ofessoi-s and their 
families, Bisho]) and Mrs. dohns and the young student friends did 
indeed bind us to them w ith cords of gratitude. Your dear grand- 
fatliei- was in New ^'ork. and came backwards and forwards: but 
I here was no aecomniodat ion for him, and so he had to bear his 
anxietv alone, and absent from this beloxcd son. .\gain we went 
tlii'oiigh all this, as we had done during all the trials of the war. 
willi the feeling that it must lie accepteil and borne with fortitude, 
and that |)ri\ation ami trouble wa- no new tliiiiL:'. I trust, loo. 
that we were able to reeoi;iii/.e (jodV hand in it all. 



47 

After three months or more, he seemed better, and we thought 
lie could be moved. His young friend, Mr. John Lloyd, lived near 
xVlexandria, and urged his going there. Lovingly and hospitably 
received, he continued to improve, with only an occasional draAV- 
back. Tlien we all returned to Richmond. It was a slow con- 
valescence, but as the Seminary session drew towards its close, Bev. 
thought lie eon Id resume study and stand the examinations. So he 
returned, took his ])lacc in tlie class, and was ordained deacon in 
18:3. 

Pie became engaged to be married to Miss Maria Washington, one 
of his former ])upils in Winchester, and the daughter of his father's 
dear friend, ilr. Augustine Washington. Born at Mount A'ernon, 
her father, on selling his ancestral home to the ladies of the Mount 
Vernon Association (in order that it might be retained as a memo- 
rial and consecrated as General Washington's home), had moved 
to Fauquier county. At the opening of the war he had offered his 
services to his State, was on General Lee's staff, and killed in one 
of the early engagements. 

The mother had died 'shortly before, and the family of seven 
young children were committed to the care of their uncle, Mr. 
Richard Washington and wife. It was, tlierefore, very soon after 
his ordination that they were married, and the first few months of 
their married life were passed in Baltimore, he acting as assistant 
to Rev. Alfred M. Randolph, rector of Emmanuel church, now as- 
sistant Bishop of Virginia. In October, 18T3, dear Beverley en- 
tered upon his real ministerial duties as rector of St. John's church, 
Warsaw, Richmond county, and there the first nine happy years 
of their married life were })assed. The}' were greatly beloved, and 
they loved their country liome. He declined many calls to other 
parishes, but when he was invited to Norfolk to become the minister 
of old St. Paul's, the Bishop advised his going, and, after long 
deliberation, and many regrets at severing the ties which so closely 
l)Ound him to friends and parishioners in Richmond county, he 
tliought it his duty to make the change, and said good-bye to this 
beloved home. 

To a minister especially, a wise and loving wife is God's l^est 
gift, and we thank Him indeed for blessing our son with such a 
treasure. To your grandfather she was a daughter indeed, and he 
loved her most tndy and affectionately. Randolpli had graduated 
in law at AVashington and T^ee University, and decided to settle in 
the new town of Huntington, the then terminus of the Chesapeake 
and Ohio road. It was really a new place, but he bravely set out, 
determining to carve his way to success. By his father's advice, he 
formed a kind of ])ai'tiu'i'slii]) witli C. O. Parsons, the head lawyer 
then in Huntington, now t'ligaged in railroad projects, real estate 
Iriisiness. and the ownci' of the Xatural Bridge ])roperty, &c.. &:c. 



48 

Jt was iiol a pai'l iicrslii]) of jii'olits at all. and dcai' Kan.. Idd, strug- 
gled along with povortv and various ti'ials. However, he united, 
witii his elTorts to gain law practice, some newspajx'r work, by his 
T^ncle Randolpirs ad\ice moving to Charleston. \\'. \a.. the (-apital 
of the .State. He conducted the editorial cnhinins dT the Charleston 
Courier. On the '2i)t\\ April, ISTo. he niai'i'icd a daughter of hi.s 
father"^ old I'l'ien.d. dudu-e ^^^ W. Ci'unip. hut in 18T5 reniov(>d to 
Staunton, and lliought he had a I'aii' ])i'o-|icct id' success in his pro- 
fession. 

Of a natui'allv sensitiw and highly-st I'ung organization, he was, 
perhaps, too dclicaicly rornie(| to battle with the stoi'ni> of life, 
during the trying years through which he passed from the time he 
returned from Europe, when our whole country was shaken by the 
conflicts of war, to the stern necessity, as now. of ])roviding for 
llie dail\- wants of a faniilx'. TIicit was no want of coni'age. but 
]»hysical inability int('i-)u)sed. l!o was suddcidy stricken with an 
illness, violent from the first, and foi' moi'e than a ycai' lie linng 
Ix'twei'u life and death. 

Con\alescence was slow. His father, howcvei-. secured for him 
the position of pi'ivate secretary to Hon. Samuel IJandall. Speaker 
of the House of Jicpresentatives. He filled that delicate position 
uscd'ully and satisfactorily, was l)elo\-ed and admireil by all wdio 
made his ac(|uaiidance. and seemei! to lie regaining his health, so 
that he hoped lo return to the practice of his profession in the 
s])ring. Divine wisdom ordered otherwise, and after a slioil illness 
of ten days, he was called to a highei' life. for. thaid< (iod. he had 
sonu' Ncai's l)(d'oi-e. in ISIo. made a public pi-ofession of his faith 
in Chri-1. and froiu that time led an earnest Christian life. 

lie died dul\ T). |SS(». his vouug widow and two little boys, living 
to guard his memorv, and his sons tiow neat'ing manhood, promising 
to be noble scifuis «d' tbeii- i-ace. and already nnndiei'eil a> young 
soldiei'^ in Chrisi "s aiany. Wdial moi'c can we ask for them but that 
thev ma\' i)e kept bv Ibe grace of (Iod and deli\(MH'd fi-om all itiI .' 

The death of ibi- belo\-e(l -on was a heaw blow to us. kour of 
our chddreii in ilea\en— -four hd't on earth- -Imt really believing 
them to be safe in theii- beaxcrdy hmue. su rel\- we could not soi'row 
"without hoite." and we had ^o fullx' tasted of ibe disappninl ments 
of life thai we thanked foi' them. e\cn tbou'^b life seemed moi'e 
di'eai'\' to u>. 

'Idle life in W'a-blnglon fi'oin our I'eturn there in ISVi to IS'.IO 
was one continued ^trugu'le. For some winters business oi)ened 
brisklv. and with his u<ual booefulness. your grandfather looked 
foi'wai'd to I'etrievinu' hi- foi-iiMU's and making a comfiu'tab'e <up- 
iMii't. He was emp'oved ill ad\'oealin'i claims before the deuart- 
ments and lud'oi'c Cono-ress. and he was acti\'e in forwarding tlie 
interests of y\y. Thomas Si-ott. oresident (d' the Pennsylvania i-ail- 



49 

road. For some yeai's he wrote articles for the papers, advocating 
the passage of the bill through Congress of the Southern Pacific 
railroad. I will not speak of the alternate success and failures 
of these years, the failures mostly due to declining health. 

Gout is no light disease, and constant attacks of illness interfered 
sadly with business; so, looking for some alleviating remedy, 
friends advised that he should try the Berkeley Spring's bath, which 
had been the resort of his youth, when he hacl gone there in search 
of jDleasure. It was then known as "Bath,'' and pleasant recoUec- 
tious came to hiui of those early days. Friends of his boyhood also 
were now living there permanently. We boarded at the Springs 
Hotel f(n- two summers, and then rented a cottage and established 
ourselves as housekeepers in a modest way. This was in 1880, and 
in this little home we were able to assemble some of the children 
and grandchildren each summer. In June, 1888, Burling and Bev. 
came to live with us. Their mother had died in March, and their 
father had no suitable person in California to care for them. These 
dear children brightened the life of their grandfather. The in- 
fusion of young life into our home was a blessing, and he loved them 
devotedly, never wearying of their presence, and loving to watch 
the development of their characters. He breathed his native air, 
and there was a refreshing of body, mind and heart in the simple, 
natural life led here. The villagers, the mountaineers, the cottage 
residents, the springs visitors all loved him, for his heart opened 
in love to all, and I always think with gratitude of this, oui- home 
at Berkeley Springs, the last home of our married life. Still, the 
attacks of gout, although modified, would return, and so, many 
weeks of suffering came each summer. We would gladly have 
remained in the mountains the whole year, but each winter we 
returned to Washington, and with unfailing courage, your grand- 
father would renew the battle, and hopefully look for good results. 

The winter of 1888-'89 he was in Washington alone, coming 
occasionally to Norfolk, where 1 was on a visit to my son, Beverley. 
Our skies were not l)right. During the summer, too, he was quite 
ill, so we arranged to be together in Washington for the coming 
winter, all of us going to Xorfolk in the spring. Wearied and 
sick, he was most of the time confined to his bed or the house. 
About the 18th of the month he received a telegram from Mr. 
Blaine to the effect: "Can you be at the State Department to-mor- 
row ; wish to see you on important business.'' This unexpected 
summons was surprising and n\ysterious, but, acting with his usual 
energy, he left on the night steamer, and was on hand at the 
appointed hour, ready for the interview. 

Xo communication, either personal or political, had passed be- 
tAveen the two for months, but ^Iv. Blaine and your grandfather 
were personal friends, although opposed to each other politically. 



50 

To your grandfathers great snrprisi,'. lie was asked wliether lie 
would accept a eommissiou from the govcniincut to go as envoy to 
Haiti, it was thought necessary to t^cwil tlici'c to arrange diplo- 
matic relations and to secure a coaling station t'oi' our vessels, and 
it was in accordance with precedent to have one of tlic apjiointees 
a Democrat, the other two being Rei)ul)licaiis. 

A (;lap of thunder from a cleai' sky could not have been juore 
startling ; but he was an American, as true in heart as any citizen 
of the Ignited States, and he felt that he could conscientiously 
pcrlnnii the duty Tccpiircd of him. llis feeble health, and going to 
a tropical climate at the season of the year, when yellow-fever 
would soon break out there, Avere indeed serious objections; but he 
never considered anything a hindrance, when duty pointed the 
way, and it seemed to him a providential opening for him to secure 
an lioiu'st ])rovision and means of suppoi-t I'or his family. He 
wished me. therefore, to join him in W'asliijigton, as tliev were to 
leave in a week, and Mr. Blaine said the President had a])]ir()ved 
tlu' api)ointments and would sign the commission the following day, 
as some engagemeni with foreign diplomats had taken him to 
]\[()unt A'ernon llnil ilai/. 1 therefore went to onr home at Berkeley, 
he intending to join nie there to pack and make some necessai'V 
arrangements foi' his absence. 

And now 1 must tell you of the sad termination of this matter. 
On the evening of the 24th, after receiving instructions from the 
Secretary of State, and holding a long conversation with him. Mr. 
Blaine said: "Mr. Tucker, you will receive yonr commission, with 
the President's signature, to-morrow, and there must i)e as little 
delay in getting off as possible." The President had even autho- 
ized the press to announce the whole aifaii- lo the coimli'v. hiil. a 
few hours after this had been done, an otficial (d' the White House 
appeared at the oflice of the Associated Press and reipu'sted that 
the names of the llaytinn commissioners should he withheld I'l'om 
the puhlic and no nieiilion made of the matter in the jiapei's. It 
was too late; the telegraphic wire had already conveyed the intel- 
ligence everywhere. It appeared that some news])apei' corre- 
S])ond(mt had raked from the ashes of a (piarter of a eenturv the 
old atrocious calumny that connected the name of your grandfather 
with what was called the assassinat i<ui plot. Allhoiigh he had been 
fully exonerated fi-om this base charge, political malice could not 
forego the op]iortiinity of striking anolhei- hlow al an innocent man-. 
when that man was a Sonthei'iiei-. Mr. lUaine ihoiighl thai it was 
•'I blow aimed al In'nisrlf by a peiv-onal enemy, and he was \cry 
indigiuml, and expostulated with the pivss. hnl to no avaih 
]\Ir Harri-^on had Ixvn intei'view ed at midnight and induced lo 
withdrew the coinmi-^sion. which had not been aduallv >igned, and 
the wdiole alfair was abandoned, a new I'evolulioii in the K'epiil)li(; 



51 

of Ilayti furnif^hing a suflieiont excuse for deciding the matter. 
Thus was persecution again to fall upon one who, although entirely 
innocent, had already suffered so much. General Lew Wallace, 
one of the other Havtian commissioners, and who was on the court- 
martial which tried those implicated in the Lincoln assassination, 
and, necessarily, heard all the evidence, said that "any attempt to 
connect j\Ir. Tucker in any way with that conspiracy was worse 
than nonsense." Many high officials in the Kepuhlican party 
expressed surprise and' indfgnation, but President Harrison had 
given ear to the whispering tongue of slander, and was glad to 
have the excuse that it was not ex])edient to send any American 
envoys to Havti just then, and so the whole matter was dropped, 
and your grandfather returned to his mountain home. To one who 
was "so sensitive aljout anything that touched his lionor, tliis was a 
cruel blow, and he never' recovered from it. He had forgiven the 
old wrong; his Christian faith triumphed over natural resen1:ment, 
and lie wanted to l)e at peace with all the world, and now it was 
imkM'd a trial to have these old false cliarges resuscitated. He said 
to me, "This is mv death l>low; my heart is l)roken. I am too old 
and weary to rally from tliis blow'.' The most distressing thought 
was that' his dear grandchildren, all too young to know the real 
facts, would learn of this when older, and might not know what 
was true and what was false. His own children and his friends, 
of course, were convinced of his entire innocence, but they were 
passing away, and the younger generation growing up. 

He wanted his grandchildren never to blush when they heard his 
name, and to know that he could stand before his Maker as inno- 
cent in this matter as an unlxu-n babe. I give this, therefore, as 
my reason for writing this short memoir of one whose name and 
memorv are deserving of all honor, and hope that the name of 
Beverley Tucker will ever be mentioned with loving ])ride by all his 
deseendauts, and especially by his grandchildren. 

He was ill for two months — very ill — but God spared his life, and 
he braced himself with sufficient nerve to try the winter in Wash- 
ington again. This winter of 1889-"90 was quietly spent, the only 
liright feature being our celebration of the forty-ninth anniversary 
of our marriage, when friends, both old and new, gathered around 
us and hoped that the "golden wedding" would find us well and 
more prosperous, and that many of God's blessings might come to 
us. How bright and even joyous he seemed that day ! for his 
naturally sunny temper was always asserting itself, and he never 
at anv time allowed his private sorrows or troubles to cloud his 
intercourse with others. The fatal disease, "La Grippe," which 
had prevailed tor two years, at last ])rostrated your grandfather, 
and as he did not improve, we at last telegraphed for his dear 
friend and relative. Dr. Hunter McGuire. He came from Rich- 



iimiid to sec liiiii. niul enc()iii'ii,L;('(l ns to hope that he would smoii lie 
ln'ttcr. It was docidcd that wc should make tlic jouriicv to Hich- 
Jiiond. and a iiio<t t'atig-uing and trying trip il \va>. I do not like to 
tliiidv of it. We were eordially welcomed to Dr. McCiuire".s private 
hospital, 8t. Tjiike's, and all that medical skill and loving care could 
do was hestowed upon the (](';\v siiUVi-cr. So many dear friends 
rallied aronnd us. loo. and sui-h au iuicrest was manifested that 
it gratified Inui greatly. Crowds of in(|uiring friends came daily, 
and our heloxcd sou came from \orfoll>;. and was most of the time 
with us. Then our son KIlis came from Memphis, and at la-t the 
dear son in California was telegraphed for. He came only in time 
to be recognized, for human aid was of no avail, and (Jod's will 
was not our will. We have since learned to say, "Thy will be 
done," and to believe that the summons, which called this servant 
away from eai-tli. was a loving invitation for him to lay down his 
burden of pain and wt-ariness. that he might e.ntei- into the rest 
promised by the Savio\ir to all who go to Him. Strong in faith, 
and trusting oidy Iti the atoning blood of Chi'ist. lie fell asleep in 
.lesu> July 1. 1S!I(>. 

The closing hours of his life were crowned with the blessing and 
beauty of jieace. The chief trait in his character was love. He 
knows now that Loxc never faileth, and that "(iod is r.,ove,'" and so 
may we all meet at last in that Heavenly Homt' that God has 
nrovided foi- those who love Him. 



APPENDIX 



To the Editor Montreal Gazette: 

Sir,— I will feel very much obliged by the insertion of the following 
letter "To the People of the United States." 

I am, very respectfully, 

Yours, 

May 19, 1865. BEVERLEY TUCKER. 

Montreal. May 19, 1865. 
To the People of the United States: 

The proclamation of Andrew .Johnson, President of the United States, 
bearing date 2d May. 1865, is my justification for addressing you this 
circular. It is addressed alike to friends and foes. I have many of 
the former, whom the associations of other and happier years have 
warmly endeared to me, and I am proud to belie\ e I have done nothing 
to forfeit their respect and esteem. To the latter 1 can only say, that 
if the bitterness of their enmity is measured by my zeal, fidelity and 
devotion to my native State, and her sister sovereignties, it is well 
deserved; 1 bear it with grateful composure. 

This proclamation advertises me to the world as a projector and 
accomplice in the assassination of President Loncoln and the attempt 
upon Secretary Seward and his son, and a price is set upon my head! 
As no man, however, great or humble, can rest under so grave a 
charge without reply and refutation, so no man, however high in 
official position or lowly in private station, can hope to escape the 
strictest investigation of such a charge or evade the severest scrutiny 
into the motives which prompted it. He, at least, who charges me with 
such a crime must expect to be dealt with as a man. not a potentate — 
an individual not the chief magistrate of a once great and Christian 
country. He who thanks God, in the presence of the representatives 
of the "nations of the earth and his assembled countrymen, and in his 
public speeches rejoices that he is a "plebian" and a "demagogue," shall 
not with impunity brand me as a criminal. Before Him who knoweth 
the secrets of all hearts, and before the pure and elevated tribunal of 
Christendom, I fearlessly denounce him, in all his mighty panoply of 
power, in the plenitude of my own conscious innocence, a wicked and 
wilful libeller. He shall not escape me by the dastardly attempt to 
throw the responsibility on the supple tools, the venal minions, in his 
employ. Qui facit per alium. facit per se. I intend to strike at the 
head, not at the tail; and if God spares my life, Andrew Johnson, and 
not I, shall go down to a dishonored grave. But it is not for myself 
alone that 1 have essayed to breast the tide of popular tumult and now 
strive to evoke from it one ray of human reason. He has charged with 
complicity in the death of Mr. Lincoln one whose very name is a 
synonym of honor; whose fair name, even in the bitterness of our 
fallen fortunes, the breath of disparagement has never clouded. His 
patient toil, enduring and Christian spirit, his admirable State papers, 
and the magnanimity and clemency exercised towards his public ene- 
mies when within his power, have challenged the admiration and 
wonder of the world. Indeed, it is not too much to assert that his per- 
sistent resistance to all entreaties to retaliate for the innumerable 
outrages of the enemy upon the people and troops of the South was 
one of the chief causes of a partial unpopularity which grew up in the 
last two years of his administration. 

Fearing to mete out the punishment of what he falsely names the 
treason of this patriot and statesman, Andrew Johnson's little soul 



54 

seeks to suborn witnesses, and otherwise to obstruct the course of jus- 
tice by a packed military court. He proclaims to the world that Jef- 
ferson Davis is the instigator of the death of Abraham Lincoln, and 
offers from his bankrupt coffers the sum of one hundred thousand dol- 
lars for his head. It would have been a curious study for an unseen 
observer, skilled in physiognomy and a knowledge of the human char- 
acter, to have contemplated the countenance of this "counterfeit pre- 
sentiment" of a President, as he traced the lines which seek to consign 
this noble and brave gentleman to an ignominious death. 

Let him, therefore, beware that, in proving him to be a slanderer, 
we do not drive him an affrighted defender of himself before his own 
people, of the crime he attempts to fasten upon one, the latchet of whose 
shoes he is not worthy to unloose. 

What object then — whence the motive for conspiracy for his death, 
when Andrew Johnson was to be his inevitable successor? Where is- 
the record of his humanity, magnanimity, and mercy? Does any part 
of his public career point to the Christian virtues of charity, forgive- 
ness, or temperance? Let the hearths of Tennessee, made desolate by 
his relentless cruelty, answer. Was his character such as to commend 
him to the good opinion of any respectable man. North or South? Let 
the degrading spectacle recently exhibited on the floor of the Senate 
chamber answerl Nay, nay, citizens of the United States, the people 
of the South had no interest in the death of Abraham Lincoln. They, 
of all others, in the length and breadth of this western continent, 
would have been the last to desire or promote such an event. And Mr. 
Seward — what public man in the South did not believe him to be the 
only conservative adviser of President i^incoln, and of whom it is said 
to-day that he repudiates the atrocious proclamation, and that but for his ill- 
ness "he would have overruled the bloodthirsty lust of h's chief. Think 
you he, too, was a fit victim for the ..outhern blade! But let us glance 
now at the proof (or rather want of it) upon which he may rely for 
the conviction of the parties embraced in the proclamation of the 
President: J. Wilkes Booth has paid the penalty with his life of hav- 
ing been the perpetrator of the death of Mr. Lincoln. The recognition 
of him by so many, to whom his appearance was familiar, the manner 
of his death, and his dying declaration, fully attest this fact. We are. 
therefore, charged with complicity only. In the absence or suppression 
of all evidence to implicate us, we are forced to confine our inquiry 
to the private or public motive in the heart of any man in the South, 
or connected with her interests, at such a crisis, to put an end to the 
life of Abraham Lincoln. 

It is equally a maxim of common sense, and the established law 
of evidence, that no man will be adjudged guilty of any crime who 
cannot be shown to have been in a position likely to be benefited, in 
some way, by its commission; whilst the suspicion rarely fails to settle 
upon one of whom the contrary is established. Cui Bono! is the ques- 
tion of questions which I respectfully put to the reflecting people of the 
United States. What object could I, or any of those named m the 
proclamation, have had in desiring, much less conspiring for, the death 
of Mr Lincoln? It is true he has prosecuted the war against the State, 
to which I deemed my highest allegiance due, with such unrelenting 
energy and extraordinary success as to destroy our last hopes. But 
those who know him best claimed for him humane and kindly qualities; 
that "would have plead like angels against the aeep damnation of his 
taking off " The surrender of our armies and the general capitulation 
that ensued inspired us wua the hope that these properties would be 
exercised towards an overpowered but uonorable foe, and that kindly 
consideration would impel him to exercise u.s power in healing the 



55 

yet fresh bleeding wounds of our country. Indeed, it is known that 
several of our most eminent public men. among them Generals Lee 
and Johnston, partaking of this confidence, promptly declared tnai the 
death of Mr. Lncoln was a great calamity to the South. 

Where, then, was the motive? Murder is never committed without a 
motive, either in interest, revenge, or some kindred quality of the 
human heart. The valorous twenty-eight, those doughty knights, who 
failed to capture alive, as the interests of justice demanded they should 
have done, one poor crippled youth, have sealed the only lips that could 
unravel this dark and mighty mystery. Did they, it has been more 
than once pertinently asked, act in this respect under instructions, and 
if not, why have they so promptly received the plaudit, "Well done, 
good and faithful servants?" Would it have proved inconvenient to 
any one to have had him taken with the power to speak? Alas! we can 
never know all that died with this daring, yet misguided young man, 
and we are left to grope our way among the motives of the living, to 
fix complicity in this fearful tragedy. I have shown, in the only way 
open to us at present, that this charge cannot lie against the South, or 
any of her right-thinking and intelligent people; and surely, the late 
lamentation that has gone up throughout the North, from the Kenebec 
to the Pacific, at the premature demise of their beloved chief, acquits 
the people of that section of complicity in this. It follows then from 
this course of reasoning, that there could have been no widespread 
conspiracy; that the plan and perpetration were confined to a few 
individuals, and to no particular section of the country. Did Booth 
commit this fearful deed with no other motive than that which inspired 
the youthful Erostratus to fire the Temple of Diana at Ephesus? If 
so, why did he call upon Mr. .Johnson, eight hours before the time fixed 
for his fell purpose? Did he call upon him with the design of assassi- 
nating him, as has been attempted to be shown by the newspapers 
in the interest of the Government? Surely, none of his acts bear out 
the influence that he was mad enough to suppose that he could murder 
Mr. .Johnson at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, and Mr. Lincoln eight hours 
thereafter in a public theatre. What, then, was the motive of his call, 
and how came Booth to address the Vice-President of the United States 
in words of such familiarity, showing certainly acquaintance, if not 
intimacy with him? 

"I do not wish to disturb you, but would be glad to have an inter- 
view. 

(Signed) . "J. Wilkes Booth." 

These are words of strange and mysterious import, and are not to 
be lightly set aside in so great a matter, as unmeaning and insignifi- 
cant. Is it doubted that if Mr. Johnson were a private citizen, instead 
of the Chief Magistrate of the United States, seeking to despoil hon- 
orable men of their characters, and to visit upon them the ignominous 
death of the gallows, that he would have been among the first brought 
to the bar of that immaculate substitution of the indefeasible right of 
trial by jury, the "Military Bureau of Justice"? Is there one of all 
that multitude of prisoners of both sexes — the refinement of whose 
tortures are made the theme of glowing recital in the northern jour- 
nals — who could hope to escape conviction, with such a communication 
upon that very memorable day, from the confessed assassin himself? 
Is it impossible that Booth may have met Mr. Johnson in that lower 
circle they were both known to frequent, and thus have formed an in- 
timacy which a common vice begets. Andrew Johnson, let it be borne 
in mind, has been noted for many years past as an almost frenzied 
aspirant for the Presidency. All the arts and appliances which the 



56 

fruitful brain of the unscrupulous demagogue could invent and employ 
have been exhausted to attain this goal of his audacious ambition. 
After a struggle of years — and not until the States of the South, 
including his own, had separated themselves from all political connec- 
tion with the North — did he reach the position of second civil officer 
of that Government. Then the prize, so long dazzling his vision, seem- 
ed within his grasp. Like Ludovico, did he touch his brow in anticipa- 
tion of the encircling diadem? But the illusion was shortlived, for the 
public and private criticisms pervading all classes upon that most dis- 
gi-aceful scene of March 4th was well calculated to dampen his hopes 
of the realization of his long-cherished aspirations, and remove farther, 
if not forever, from his grasp the glittering prize. The crimson blush 
of mingled indignation and shame mantled the cheeks of ambassadors, 
senators, justices, and the lesser dignitaries that witnessed the disgust- 
ing scene, while the saddest countenance in all that throng, we are 
told, was that of Abraham Lincoln, who, it is said, on the evening of 
the same day at the Inauguration Ball, declined to recognize him. The 
prayers of a whole people — friends and foes of President Lincoln — 
ascended to Heaven that his life might be preserved, and thus spare 
them the humiliation of having such a man to rule over them! Are 
we to l)elieve that all this passed unnoticed by Andrew Johnson, and 
if not, is his the nature to harbor no resentments? That great Master 
who, as if by inspiration, knew, and so faithfully delineated, the darlv 
workings of the human heart, gives us fearful instances, where ambi- 
tion, interest, and revenge have impelled men to enact like crimes, 
and puts in ghostly lips the fearful disclosure to the sorrowful and half- 
suspecting son of the Danish Monarch: 

" 'Tis given out, that sleeping in mine orchard, 
A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark 
Is by a forged process of my death 
Rankly abused; but know, thou noble youth. 
The serpent that did sting thy father's life, 
Now wears his crown." 

And how did it happen that Andrew .Johnson, of all men fondest of 
demagoguing in public, should have remained quietly in his room upon 
the fatal evening, when to the attraction of the theatrical entertainment 
were to be added a wild and tumultuous demonstration at the presence 
of their great military hero? True, it was Good-Friday, which, in most 
Christian countries, is only wont to be celebrated by solemn worship 
and holy praise. Would that the mantle of Christian caarity could be 
extended, and that his seclusion could be ascribed to this laudable 
cause. And how are we to account for the mysterious and concealed 
manner in which the whole of the judicial examination is conducted, 
for the avowed purpose of ascertaining all the particulars of this 
dreadful tragedy, and of bringing the real culprits to justice? Why 
should the prosecutors, more than the alleged criminals, fear the light 
of day? 

All this, it is true, is l)ut hypothesis, and yet when you support it 
by the fact that Andrew .Johnson is the only solitary individual of the 
thirty-five millions of souls comprised in that land who could possibly 
realize any interest or benefit from the perpetration of this deed, and 
that Booth irafi not vai)turf'd aUve. as he unquestionably could have been, 
we must educe some one more plausible, ere we wholly reject this. 
Dead men tell no tales, and the wantonly hushed voice of this unhappy 
man leaves behind his bloody tragedy a fearful mystery. Certain it is, 
Mr. .Johnson, with such a record, is entitled to no "charter illimitable 



5? 

as the wind, to blow on whom he please," and especially upon those 
against whom he knows he has not a scintilla of nnsuborned testimony. 

As soon as the proclamation appeared, Mr. Sanders and myself offered 
to voluntarily surrender ourselves for trial, upon terms that have not 
met with disfavor from even the most rabid portion of the United 
States press. Indeed, in several instances, the acceptance of them is 
pressed with much fairness and great earnestness. Nor can it reason- 
ably be objected that we prescribed our own tribunal. The trial by- 
jury has been set aside in your once proud republic, and all the princi- 
ples of the great charter of your liberties, have been merged, in defiance 
of the most sacred constitutional obligations, into a worse than military 
despotism. A Bureau of Military Justice (God save the mark!) has 
been constituted, with all the damnable features of the "Star Chamber," 
before which are to be tried, men ichose linearie is not tainted with 
murder, and whose antecedents justify no suspicion of guilt, save what 
an unholy revenge and gold-bought testimony furnishes. The time- 
honored rules of evidence are no longer extant, and it is coolly reported 
fi-om Washington, with at least semi-ofhcial authority, that one witness 
presented himself to the Secretary of War, and stated that he was 
willing to appear and testify for the Government, upon the condition 
that he should be examined in secret, and that his name should never 
be made public— to which humane and reasonable proposition the Sec- 
retary of War gave his cordial assent! 

The animus of Andrew Johnson is glaringly evinced in the composi- 
tion of this court. With the exception of two, the members of this 
court are wholly unknown to fame. Its President is Major-General 
David Hunter, whose savage cruelties and wanton atrocities in his cam- 
paign in Virginia, outstripping "Butler the Beast," have made his 
name unsurpassingly infamous at home and throughout the civilized 
world. That moral hisus nature, himself childless, and whom, as if 
in resentment for God's wise provision that monsters should not pro- 
pagate their species, blackened his soul and charred his hands with 
the burning ruins of the homes of his own unoffending kindred, where, 
and among whom, he had in youth and manhood enjoyed the most 
elegant and lavish hospitalities. The second, the Judge Advocate, 
is a man— mankind, I crave your pardon— a worm — little animals for- 
give the insult— who from his safe ambush delights to belch forth the 
virus of his cowardly persecutions upon those before whose noble 
presence his dastard spirit would quail— one whom the alphabet that 
spells Thersites, Squalidity and Blackguards, refuses its letters to tell 
us who he is, and hyperbole for meanness, is an ellipsis for Holt. 
Before such a tribunal no sane man is expected voluntarily to surrender 
himself for trial. 

There is nothing left for me, therefore, but to endure for the present 
the painful position of one charged with a crime, and denied by his 
accusers the common privilege of the worst felon, a trial before a fair 
and impartial tribunal. In the letters and communications which form 
the appendix to this circular are contained my most solemn asserva- 
tions of mv innocence and ignorance of any. and everything connected 
nearly or remotely with this tragedy. I reiterate them here with all 
solemnity, and trust that when the fearful madness that rules the 
hour shall have run its course, and the principles of constitutional 
liberty and free government shall reassert their empire, I shall be able, 
under a kind Providence, to return and show to you and to the world 
that whatever of confidence and esteem I have enjoyed among you 
have not been unworthily bestowed. 

And now one word of parting to my native State and her enduring 

and gallant people, and I am done. Of her and them shall even the 



58 

hostile historian write tout est perdu fors Vhonneur! It is a bitter 
trial to be forced to turn my back on her in this darkest hour of her 
history. Not a spear of grass that points heavenwards from the graves 
of her noble dead, but is dearly prized by me. Not a tradition of her 
glorious past, that does not fill my heart with i)roud but sad emotions. 
If I may not adopt the morbid utterance of the great Venetian con- 
spirator who is sought to be made my prototype in crime, that "the 
world and I have long been jangling, and cannot part on better terms 
than now," I may truly say, that, with such a future, life has few charms 
for me I Indeed, I have never wished to survive the subjugation of 
/irginia. The work of the ruthless destroyer has laid waste her fair 
fields and beautiful cities; and the lovely valley of the Shenandoah, 
the home of my birth, and where my fathers and my kindred sleep, 
shall no longer bud and blossom to my enraptured vision. My humble 
and feivent prayers shall ever be that a just and merciful God will, 
in His own time, "undertake for us," and in His own way bring the 
"wickedness of the wicked to an end," and again "establish the just." 
Respectfully, your former fellow-citizen, 

BEVERLEY TUCKER. 

The object of the following "Appendix" is to lay before the public, 
whatever is pertinent in its character, preceding, as well as subsequent 
to, the infamous proclamation of Andrew Johnson. This plot to seek 
to implicate President Davis, myself and others first declared itself in 
insidious and dark mutterings of newspaper correspondents — further 
developing into direct charges by subsidized editors, as if preparing 
the public mind — and finally culminating in the proclamation itself. 
The proffer of Mr. Sanders and myself to surrender ourselves for trial 
has been contemptuously ignored; while Mr. Clay, in return for his 
prompt and manly note addressed to the Federal commander, is under- 
going solitary confinement in a damp cell at Fortress Monroe, and 
probably, like Mr. Davis, "manacled." It will be recollected that the 
Confederate cruiser, "Florida." was sunk Jiy accident in Hampton Roads, 
and no atonement proffered. Is it impossible there may be in reserve 
for the civilized world the severer shock of the wanton sacrifice of the 
lives of two gentlemen — already in broken health — from the effects of 
an enfeebling and unhealthy incarceration? 

MoxTiiK.vi.. April 25, 1865. 
Hon. Horace Greely, New York. U. S. America: 

Sir. — I find the following in the New York Tribune of Saturday, the 
22d ult., taken from its Washington "Occasional Correspondent"; 

"One of President Lincoln's last official acts was a deed of mercy 
towards his enemies. He expressly stated that he meant to give the 
leading Confederates an opportunity to leave the country. This tele- 
gram from Portland, Maine, came to Washington. 

"Beverley Tucker and .Jacob Thompson will be here to-morrow in 
disguise to take the steamer for Europe. What shall we do? 

"Mr. Lincoln directed the authorities to let them go. A few hours 
later he fell by the assassin's bullet, and beside his deathbed a member 
of his Cabinet countermanded that order. Fortunately, for their own 
lives. Thompson and Tucker did not come to the United States, after 
the conspirators had murdered the only one who could have saved them 
from their doom." 

Permit me to say in reply to this, that it has rarely been my fortune 
to see so much misrepresentation in so few lines. In the first place, 
I have never had, as the al)ove would seem to imply, the slightest official 



59 

connection with Mr. Tliompson in Canada, though I am quite sure he 
is as free from the implied charge, as I claim myself to be. My mission 
here from the Confederate States is entirely free, even were it fully 
understood, from any objection of either the United States or Colonial 
Governments. Its entire success would have involved no necessity for 
the slightest impingement of the Neutrality Laws of Her Majesty's 
Government, on the one hand, nor even a concealment of its purposes 
from that of the United States Government, on the other. The late 
President, himself, was advised of the business in which I was engaged. 
Both he and his Secretary of State, Mr. Seward, knew that it had no 
connection whatever with any military raids or hostile expeditions into 
the States, from any quarter. I cannot, therefore, even as a ••leading 
Confederate." permit myself to be held up before the world as a fit 
subject of President Lincoln's mercy or condemnation. I nave neither 
sought the one nor feared the other. Educated in a school whose 
political principles taught me that my first allegiance was due to my 
native State, I freely gave all that I had and loved to what I conscien- 
tiously believed to be her righteous cause — and so it shall ever be — 
her people shall be my people, and her God my God. For this, I claim 
no praise, and submit to no censure. 

In the second place, I have no intention to go to Europe, and if I 
had, certainly none to debark at any port in that section of the United 
States termed New England, where valor for the most part resides 
in mobs and the patriotism of whose people oozes out (without regard 
to color) in "st-dstitttes." Oh, no! I never intend to go there. If I 
should, however, conclude to sail, look out for me in New York, where 
the manly spirit of freemen rises above all these meaner passions of 
the race. 

The fact is, this charge that I was to go to Portland "in disguise" is 
one of the many absurd, sensational fabrications that are unceasingly 
emanating from the brain of that vulgar class of cowardly American 
detectives, with which this gracious asylum of the oppressed, in obe- 
dience to the stern demand for an obsequious neutrality, is permitted 
to be infested. But let them pass — alas! they are more "sinned against 
than sinning," and unhappily nnist eat. albeit, it is at the expense of 
false inventions, caring nothing whose character is maligned, so it be 
a "Rebels." 

But if the attack upon me had only this extent, I should not have 
troubled you with this notice of it. There is contained in the last 
paragraph a latent, but not the less offensive, inuendo, that I was 
either a party to, or cognizant of, the tragedy that has thrown your 
country into such grief and widespread lamentation. This insinuation 
I repel toith iinaffected indignation and seorn. come from whatsoever 
source it may; and I feel that I do not rely in vain upon you by asking 
a place in your columns for its refutation. I have not forgotten you, 
sir, as the fearless and humane pioneer of a peace, upon terms not 
intended to be degrading to the South: and I will not believe you will 
withhold this privilege from me, public enemies as we yet are. I shall 
not humiliate myself by a further denial than is conveyed by the re- 
sentment I have just expressed, at the mere suggestion of my com- 
plicity in a deed from which every sentiment of my moral nature 
revolts. I will simply conclude with what I presume has given rise 
to the use of my name in this connection. 

On Thursday, the 13th ult., there appeared in the afternoon papers 
a telegraphic report of an order of Major-General Weitzell, consenting 
to the convocation of the General Assembly of Virginia, at Richmond, 
accompanied by an invitation to prominent and other citizens of the 
State for the purpose of conferring as to the most eligible mode of 



60 

restoring peace, and generously proffering safe conduct to and from 
the city to all who desired to answer the call in person. Feeling 
naturally the deepest interest in so important a movement, affecting 
the future of my fellow-citizens in Virginia, and desiring to contribute 
my humble influence to so laudable an end, I at once telegraphed Mr. 
Secretary Seward substantially as follows: 

MoxTKEAL. 13th April, 1865. 
Hon. Wm. H. Seward. Secretry of State, etc.. Washington. D. C: 

I perceive in this afternoon's papers a call for the assembling of the 
members of the Virginia Legislature and other citizens in Richmond; 
and I have the lionor to request permission to proceed thither, under, 
and subject to. the conditions set forth in General Weitzell's order. 
Please answer. 

(Signed) BEVERLEY TUCKER. 

The next day was Good-Friday, and as this is strictly observed in all 
Her Majesty's dominions as a sacred holy day, the telegraph offices were 
closed, and I expected no reply until the Saturday. Upon opening the 
morning journal, however, I found the telegraphic report of the assas- 
sination of the President and the attempt upon the lives of Secretary 
Seward and his son. No one in this community could have been more 
shocked by this announcement than myself. Of course I received no 
answer to my dispatch, and know nothing to this day of the manner in 
which it was received. It is perhaps fortunate that I did not obtain 
the consent of the Secretary to go on, as in that case I should have 
arrived in Washington the day succeeding the tragic occurrence, and 
as your correspondent coolly suggests, should have paid the penalty 
with my life, by mob violence, for having entered the United States, 
notrcithHtanding I should have had the permit of the authorities at 
Washington .' 

Such, sir. is my reply to the paragraph of your "Occasional Cor* 
respondent," which I am sure your sense of justice, even to a political 
and public enemy, will impel you to insert. I am, very respectfully. 
Your obedient servant, 

BEVERLEY TUCKER. 

MoxTKEAL, May 4, 1865. 
To the President of the United States: 

SiH. — I see by your proclamation of May 2nd that you recite that 
there is evidence in the -Bureau of Military Justice." that I '•incited, 
concerted, and procured" the assassination of the late President Lincoln, 
and the attempts upon the lives of Secretary Seward and his son. If 
furnished a copy of that evidence, I pledge myself to disprove it, and 
every obligation of honor, honesty, civilization, and Christianity should 
impel you to order it to be sent to me here. 
Your obdt. servt., 

BEVERLEY TUCKER. 
The foregoing is a copy of a letter I have written to President John- 
son, and which I have thought proper to send you: 

Respectfully, &c., 

BEVERLEY TUCKER. 
Hon. E. M. Stanton. Secretary of War. Washington City: 
Returned and officially endorsed, 
"Receipt declined." 
To the People of Canada: 

Mo.\TRE.\L. 4th May, 1865. 
I have this moment seen the Proclamation of Andrew Johnson, acting 



61 

President of the United States, stating that "it appears from evidence 
in the Bureau of Military Justice that the atrocious murder of the 
late President, Abraham Lincoln, and the attempted assassination of 
the Hon. W. H. Seward, Secretary of State, was incited, concerted and 
procured by and between Jefferson Davis, late of Richmond, Va., and 
Jacob Thompson, Clement C. Clay, Beverley Tucker, George N. Sanders. 
W. C. Cleary and others, rebels and traitors, against the Government 
of the United States, harbored in Canada," and offering rewards for 
the apprehension of the accused, $25,000 being the sum offered for my 
arrest. It is scarcely possible that such proclamation would have been 
issued unless some such "evidence" has been adduced. What such 
"evidence" is I am totally at a loss to conjecture. I am compelled, 
therefore, to content myself with the declaration that whosoever hath 
sworn to anything authorizing in the slightest degree suspicion of my 
having "incited, concerted or procured," or of any knowledge whatever 
by me of the attacks made on the President and Mr. Seward, or any 
acts or projects of a kindred character, or of any plan to kidnap or 
capture either of them, or any of the Feder-al authorities, hath black- 
ened his soul with diabolical perjury. Until information reached here 
of the attack on President Lincoln by Mr. J. Wilkes Booth and that on 
Mr. Seward by some other person, I did not know that any such person 
as J. Wilkes Booth existed. I had never heard of him before. I do not 
know any of the persons in arrest at Washington, and never heard of 
them till I read the notices in the U. S. newspapers of their appre- 
hension. I have within a day or two past made enquiry and ascer- 
tained that Mr Booth left St. Lawrence Hall, Montreal, on the 27th 
October last. The officers of the Ontario Bank state that on that day 
he purchased of the bank a Bill on England for £61 12s. Id., for which 
he paid in American Gold, and at the same time made a deposit of 
$855 Canada money, which yet remains to his credit, and that he stated 
he intended to run the blockade. Whether he made such attempt, or 
went into the U. States by railroad. I have not ascertained. 

The clerks in the St. Lawrence Hall inform me that he arrived at 
the house on the 18th of October, being here nine days. I was not in 
Montreal during the time. My association with the other gentlemen 
named in this atrocious proclamation has been intimate for years, and 
I admit it would be strange if they had any knowledge of Mr. Booth's 
purposes that I should be in utter ignorance of it. 

I have to-day appealed to President Johnson and Secretary Stanton 
to allow me copies of the alleged "evidence," with respect to myself, to 
give me a chance to disprove it. 

BEVERLEY TUCKER. 

MoxTREAL. May 4, 1865. 

To Andrew Johnson. President of the United States: 

Sir. — Your proclamation is a living, burning lie. known to be such 
by yourself and your artful surroundings; and all the hired perjurers 
in Christendom shall not deter us from exhibiting to the civilized world 
your hellish plot to murder our patriot. Christian President, Jefferson 
Davis. 

We recognize in many of your most distinguished generals men of 
honor, and we do not believe their association, even with you, can so 
brutalize them as to prevent their doing justice to a public enemy 
under such grave charges. Be this as it may, we challenge you to 
select any nine of the twenty-six Generals that we name to form a 
Court-Martial for our trial, to be convened at the United States Fort, 



62 

Rouse's Point, or any other place, that you may not have the power to 
incite the mob to destroy us en route: Generals Scott, Grant, Sher- 
man, Meade, Hosecraiis, Howard, Buinsidc, lloolvcr, Sclioticld. Wriiilit, 
Dix, Cadwallader, Emory. Blaii'. Pleasanton, Logan. Steele. Peck. Hatch. 
Franklin. Rodman. Alexander, Carr, Reynolds, and Meagher. The 
money that you have so prodigally offered to have the neutrality of 
an unoffending neighboring State violated by the unwan-antable seizut'e 
of our persons, to be handed over to defray the professional and other 
expenses of our trial, to the lawyers that we shall designate, and 'ho 
are in no wise to be prejudiced by appearing in our defence. Our wit- 
nesses, also, to have the fullest protection, and upon our acquittal of 
the charges preferred against us. we to be permitted to return inder 
safe conduct. 

In conclusion, we say we have no acquaintance whatever with Mr. 
Booth, or any of those alleged to have been engaged with him. ^\ e have 
never seen or had any knowledge in any wise of him or tbem — ^he 
never wrote us a note he never sought an intervieic with us. 

GEO. N. SANDERS, 
BEVERL,EY TLCKER. 

(Copy.) 

Montreal. May 6, 1865. 

My L(U!1). — I have the honor herewith to enclose for your Elxcellency's 
information and perusal the extraordinary proclamation of Andrew 
.Johnson, President of the United States of America, together with three 
communications which I have addressed in reply thereto, respectively, 
to Hon. Horace Greeley. Editor Tribune, to "the People of Canada." and, 
in conjunction with Mr. G. N. Sanders, to the President of the Uni e i 
States; to all of which I beg leave, respectfully, to invite your Excel- 
lency's impartial consideration. I have the honor to be, with high 
respect, 

Your Excellency's most obdt. humble servt., 

BEVERLEY TUCKER. 

To His Excellency. Lord Monk, Governor-General, &c.. &c. : 
The receipt of the above was obligingly acknowledged. 

(Copy.) 

Montreal. C. E., May 4, 1865. 

Sir. — I take the liberty of addressing you this note, in reference to a 
Proclamation, bearing date 2nd of May, 1865. which appears in this 
morning's papers, in which my name, among others, is mentioned as 
having had complicity with or knowledge of the assassination of Presi- 
dent Lincoln, and the attempts upon the lives of Secretary Seward and 
his son. 

I beg to enclose you a letter which I addressed on the 25th of April ult. 
to the Hon. Horace Greeley, editor of the New York Tribune, in reply 
to a similar charge, by one of its correspondents. I had indulged the 
hope that this letter would have put at rest so atrocious and groundless 
an allegation. In this I am disappointed, and I merely write to you as 
the Ambassador of England at Washington, to reiterate the sentiments 
contained in the letter referred to, and further to state, without mental 
reservation, that I not only had no knowledge or suspicion — even the 
vaguest, — of the conspiracy, but that it so happens I had never heard 
the name of .1. Wilkes Booth, never saw it written or in print until the 
dav after the assassination of Mr. T^incoln. 

Furthermore. I will state that I am perfectly willing to submit to 
yourself (and the Colonial authorities here) all the official papers 
and correspondence I have had with the Confederate States Govern- 



03 

ment since I left Richmond in January, 1864, from wtiich it will be 
seen that the statements in my leLter are fully maintained. I have the 
honor to be, 

Your Excellency's most obdt. servt., 

BEVERLEY TUCKER. 

To His Excellency, Sir Frederick Bruce, British Ambassador, Wash- 
ington City, U. S. A., fee, &c., &c. 

(v'opy.) 

Montreal. May 10, 1865. 
Hon. Wm. H. Seicard. Secretary of State. Washington City. D. C: 

Dea): Sir, — I see by the reports of your surgeon that you and your 
son are convalescing from the terrible wounds so diabolically inflicted 
upon you. and I beg you to believe that I am sincerely gratihed that it 
is so. 

Let one of the first acts of your convalescence be one of justice, even 
to a political enemy. I do not ask mercv of any earthly being. I sup- 
plicate the benefits of this quality only of my God. I am charged with 
a most horrible crime — one against which every sentiment of my moral 
nature revolts. A price has been set uoon my head and pains taken to 
brand me as a criminal guiltv of this deed and flying from justice, not 
only on th^-s continent, but in Europe. I did not believe that this pro- 
clamation received your sanction at the time, and the oublic journals 
in the United State- seem to justify this conclusion. Why will you not 
then, use your influence to procure me a fair trial? If the terms named 
in the joint letter of Mr. Sanders and myself do not meet favor, let 
others be submitted. I can not only establish my entire innocence, 
but, if permitted, can prove to the satisfaction, even of my toorst ene- 
mies, that my sojourn here bas been marked bv no solitary act of a 
violent character. My communications to yourself bear out the correct- 
nes' of this assertion. ?fy telegram to you on the 13th of April, only 
the (lay before the terrible tragedies, shows an animus not onlv free 
from all mischievous intent, but entirely respectful to vourself. I have 
a family who are very dear to me — and an extensive acquaintance 
at home and abroad — whose good esteem and respect I greatly value. 
Common humanity simply demands that I have an orjoortunity before 
a fair tribunal to acquit myself and my name of this grievous and 
atrocious charge. 

Hoping yourself and son mav soon be entirely restored, I am, very 
respectfully. Your obdt. servt.. 

BEVERLEY TUCKER. 



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